


You're Wearing Your Skin Like It's Too Tight

by sweaterpawnoctis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Zayn, M/M, Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. AU, No Spoilers, Smut, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 17:46:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3390578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweaterpawnoctis/pseuds/sweaterpawnoctis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What do you want, Harry?" Zayn asks after a few moments, flicking his gaze up to watch Harry through his lashes. </p><p>"Something I can't have."</p><p>"I didn't ask if you could have it or not. I asked 'what do you want?'" He tries again with a much softer voice while the pads of his thumbs rub over the skin under Harry's boxers. He lets the boy think for a moment, but those greens eyes never leave his amber ones and they sit there like that for a short while, with Harry's hands coming down to rest on top of his. Zayn doesn't know how long they wait there, but he can practically hear Harry's gears turning in his head until— </p><p>"You," he whispers as he moves his fingers to tangle them with Zayn's. "Only you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Wearing Your Skin Like It's Too Tight

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics are not mine. They belong to the song Bulls Make Money, Bears Make Money, Pigs Get Slaughtered by Chiodos.

They're nine thousand feet above the ground in the conference area of the S.H.I.E.L.D. airline, also known as "the bus" if you're part of the normal team, but if you want to be a technical prat, like Ward, it is a Boeing C-17 Globemaster III. Not that anyone really cares about that to begin with because they are usually too busy searching for targets or letting the two nerds play around in the lab, trying to figure out foreign devices that Zayn really doesn't care too much about because it isn't his section.

 

No, his section is with the other specialist agent, Grant Ward, as mentioned above, that he honestly can't stand and that's what's gotten him into trouble at the moment. He's sitting there in his chair as Jemma sighs and cleans up Ward's eyebrow and jaw where Zayn has busted it, listening to their leader, Agent Coulson, who is ripping him a new one for fucking up on the field and making things personal. And really, it isn't his fault that Ward has a stick the size of Asia up his arse and can't seem to take anyone else's opinions into the matter at hand and had the man been listening, they would have gotten in and out without a problem. Zayn had it under control. He was completely focused.

 

"I was following the rules. I went in, as you suggested, and would have come out, just like you said, if Ward hadn't have—" He tries, but of course the other man has to step in as some alpha male and beat him down. Zayn really should have done another number on him because that bruising will last a week, maybe, and that just isn't cutting it for him. He needs something that's going to keep Ward from talking for at least twice that long. Preferably, forever.

 

"You weren't checking your corners."

 

"Because no one was in the room!" 

 

"Enough!" Agent Coulson shouts, slamming the file on his desk as Ward waves Jemma away, who goes silently out of the room, not wanting to be in he middle of another smack down between Ward and Zayn. Zayn doesn't blame her for a second. It's silent for awhile, though, as the two younger men wait for their director to say something, anything. Well, anything than what he does say. "You're out of commission, Malik. At least for awhile." 

 

"What?" Zayn snaps, standing up and glaring at Ward, who looks so fucking smug over there leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He's tall, nearing around six feet, and he's buff. They both are. That's what happens when you go into training for black ops and get spat back out. He's older than Zayn by seven years, making him thirty-one, and the younger man absolutely hates it when Ward reminds him of it, which the other male loves to do. "I did everything as you ordered and I'm the one that gets put on probation?"

 

"Not 'probation,' Malik. Out of commission," their director says, just in case Zayn didn't get it, which believe him, he really fucking gets it. It's burning against the insides of his mind right now. "You attacked another agent while on a mission that ended up going south and failing. I now need to have Skye try to hunt down the target and track him again, which could have been avoided if you had just—"

 

"Stuck to the plan, which I did—"

 

"'Played by the rules,' was more where I was going."

 

"This is ridiculous. I would have had him, Coulson! He was right there and I could have gotten in if Ward hadn't have gotten in the way and made us do something that wasn't even entirely necessary! The room was empty. I checked myself before he came in," Zayn argues, but it gets him nowhere as Coulson reaches his hand out and the raven-haired male is forced to hand over his S.H.I.E.L.D. badge. It makes his stomach sink and now he really wishes he had hit Ward a little harder. Maybe he should have knocked him out. At least than everything would have been slightly worth it. 

 

"It's not permanent, Malik. Just until things simmer down and we get this in the clear. That's all I'm asking. You can help out on the plane and you'll be kept in the loop just in case, but you aren't going out into the field for awhile." And that's it. That's where Ward smirks and Zayn gets the urge to punch him in his face again, maybe even his ribs, possibly his already injured shoulder just to prove a point, but he doesn't because he needs this gig. 

 

He needs this because it is the only thing he has. He was that typical arsehole kid back in school and he didn't even finish it because he had kept getting into trouble and never showed up. That isn't to say he wasn't smart, because the tests he had to take in order to get to where he is now proves he's brilliant. It just also explains why his two major specialties are combat and espionage, just like his fellow specialist agent. However, he also speaks five different languages (English, Urdu, French, Italian, and Russian) and he can work a computer for hacking almost as well as Skye can. He has the skills to be here and stay, but he doesn't always think that far ahead. He never does and it's one of his few flaws here, he'll admit.

 

The point is, this job is the only thing that keeps him from going to prison and getting busted for the use of his skills and he fits in here well, he knows he does, he just sometimes as a problem with Ward. Or maybe it's an 'all the time' thing. Whatever. It would help if the man would just shut up and let Zayn do his job, but he doesn't seem to get that hint and it leads to problems. However, he has never gotten into so much trouble where he's had to hand over his badge and walk out of the room and towards his bunk with that glum and guilty look on his face. He's never been so disappointed in himself because he is damn good at his job and he's never had a major slip up like this before. It frustrates him and it makes him want to punch things, more than just Ward's face now. 

 

That's got him thinking that his anger issues may be just as bad as Ward's, but at least that guy deserves it. 

 

"I would have had him," he whispers to himself before getting inside his rooming area and sitting down with his head in his hands. He'll make up for this. He'll make Agent Coulson forget about this silly mistake and he'll do better. He won't let anything get in his way. Everything is a job. He can't let it become personal again. He will get this next one right.

 

He has to. 

 

\----

 

In the end, "out of commission" turns into "probation," just like Zayn had been hoping, and he gets another assignment two weeks later in the form of a person. Except, this time, it isn't a 'target' person, it's a 'protect' person. That's something he has never done and it isn't actually in his line of work. He goes out and drags people into custody to allow agent Coulson to decide what to do with them later. He does not, however, go out of his way to protect someone unless they are on his team, but he figures that's why he has an alias to cover his tracks. One that went to Uni and has outstanding references. One that has a passport and legal papers that his own name doesn't even have. One that is— 

 

"Demetri Malikov! I thought I'd never see the likes of you around here again!" He hears from beside him, making his head snap to the side, allowing his body to follow, in order to see the face there coming up to his form. A face he hasn't seen in maybe two or three years, but one he had called up nonetheless. The older man deserves it after all the shit Zayn has put him through before then randomly disappearing awhile back. 

 

"Louis," he breathes in relief before accepting the hug the man is offering, squeezing a little they pull apart and those bright blue eyes go from fond to slightly annoyed. 

 

"You," the other mutters as he presses his index finger into Zayn's chest and presses just against his heart. It would take Zayn about half a second to break and twist the shorter lad's arm and press it to the small of his back, but this man is no threat. Not to Zayn, anyways. "I thought we were a team. I thought it was you and me against everyone else. I thought you were going to come back after that run and instead, I got back to the warehouse before you and you never came back. What was that all about, Malikov? Hm?" 

 

The warehouse. 

 

See, he and Louis hadn't had a family or a home. They grew up along the streets and back allies all by themselves. Louis, who is two years older than Zayn himself, had found the boy walking around Doncaster, sad and alone with nowhere to go. They had hit it off pretty well back then and became partners in crime. They would steal little things and hack others to get into places and once they had enough, Louis brought them into the heart of London. They had found some old and abandoned warehouse, staying in it with a few other homeless kids with nowhere to go. Zayn use to be so in love with this man in front of him, but they were both different people now. They didn't have a warehouse to go back to anymore. 

 

That had been where Zayn had created 'Demetri Malikov.' 

 

Okay, so maybe he and Louis had faked his papers, too. Did it really matter?

 

"I waited a week for you to come back, thinking maybe you just got caught and wanted to lead them astray like we always talked about or maybe you had gotten questioned and I had to come get you or fuck, I thought you were dead or worse, injured. I waited and your arse never came around and now? Now you're randomly back in town five years later and call for a quick 'catch up'?" 

 

"It's lovely to see you, too, Louis," Zayn sighs, rolling his eyes with a fond smile. This is the boy he had missed. The boy that had turned into a man with scruff along his jaw and upper lip. He seems to have grown a bit, also, gotten some more tattoos, (they had gotten their first ones together on the inside of their wrists. Zayn's right, Louis' left. They were of two fingers crossed over each other like code. Their code. He could see it peeking out just under the sleeve of Louis' ridiculous jumper that makes him look tame and domesticated). He's more relaxed, possibly cleaned up, and looks happier. Happier than Zayn has ever seen him before and that makes a smile cross over his expression. 

 

"Yeah, yeah, it's all fine and dandy that you're back, but what happened to you, mate? You just.. Took off without me one night," Louis whispers as he drops his hand and furrows his eyebrows. Zayn wonders what the older boy thinks and sees when he looks at him. If he sees that he didn't want to go that night, that he has missed this man so much, that he would have done everything he had to get back to him, but instead he had joined the team in order to clear whatever negative charges and records anyone had on his partner. 

 

It was a fair deal and he wouldn't go back on it now. 

 

"Got caught up with something else, you know how it is," he tries to go with and although he sees that Louis doesn't buy it for a second, he is relieved when the man shrugs his shoulders and stuffs his smaller hands in his coat jacket. 

 

"You know what? I don't even want to know. That shit was a long time ago," the older male huffs and Zayn watches the air pass through his parted lips and out into the chilly air. It's winter here in London and it's snowing. Of course it is. 

 

"That it was, but you look good. What's got you so uplifted?" Zayn asks and immediately, Louis' face lights up. 

 

"Got a job awhile back. It's a shit job at times, no time for myself, but it's nice having a place to stay and a steady income I can rely on. Turns out, an honest living isn't so bad." 

 

"And what is this 'honest living,' Lou?" That gets a chuckle from Louis as he shakes his head, making some of the snow flakes fall from his caramel-colored hair onto the ground. 

 

"I'm a nanny," Louis hums, shrugging his shoulders once again. "It's for this little four year old boy named Landon. He's precious, you'd love him. He's cunning, too, though. He lives out by Big Ben. His parents are a fucking work of art, that's for sure, but Landon isn't half bad. I actually enjoy having him around." It's the smile that graces Louis' lips after that, that shows Zayn that Louis' found his place and the younger lad couldn't be any happier for him. He likes to think he made that possible by joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. "What about you, Demetri? You've been gone, what, four or five years?" 

 

"Yeah, something like that," Zayn murmurs, but it hurts. It hurts to hear his only friend call him by some name that doesn't even belong to him. It's just something he had read in a book once and he had liked it. He still likes it. It makes him feel a little secretive because it's dark and it's Russian and that to him just makes him feel like some sort of badass. "I was, uh, kind of hoping for a job here," he continues as he brings his hand up to the back of his head to scratch awkwardly as his other one points his index finger towards the shop window next to him. 

 

"You want to work at a coffeehouse?" Louis questions with raised eyebrows and yeah, it's a little weird, but—

 

"You know me and my coffee. I just figured, it's simple and easy, I'm a people person," that earns him a scoff and snort from his mate, "and maybe I could.. I don't know, establish some roots?" It's a lie, at best, but he can't exactly tell Louis that he is here to legally stalk and protect someone to make sure the Clairvoyant doesn't find out about them. Why? Because some boy in there has the ability to create elements from his hands without desire to and that in and of itself is a threat. Some boy that— 

 

"Yeah, alright," Louis interrupts his thoughts as he grabs Zayn's bicep and opens the door to the little hipster shop. He walks his way through the crowd like he owns the place (still the same old Louis to Zayn), ignoring the people in line before going to the counter to see a rather tall and lanky boy as the barista. He's in a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair is styled back quite nicely, if Zayn does say so himself. 

 

"Louis, you're cutting," Zayn hisses, not that Louis seems to care once he jumps on the counter and slides his hand down to grab Zayn's belt loop and pull him closer, just to make sure he can't run away and okay, yeah, that makes sense considering their relationship. That makes Zayn's cheeks flush a little, though, out of embarrassment as everyone in line groans at them. 

 

"Hello, Louis," the stranger says as he pulls out the correct change for someone, handing it over with a bright smile before pushing the drawer back into the cash register, not even sparing a glance at Louis. He doesn't seem at all fazed by the man sitting on the counter, crossing his legs as the next customer comes up and the boy asks him for his order. 

 

"Hello, dear Harold," Louis croons as he bats his eyelashes over his cerulean eyes at the boy, who Zayn is realizing is wearing a pink apron over his white button down shirt that is tucked into the waist band of his black jeans that look like they are painted on. Except, the thing is, this stranger isn't really giving Louis the time of day and he almost laughs at how out of place the older boy seems to be about this, but it also seems to be a common occurrence.

 

"I don't see Landon. Are you not working today?" The boy, Zayn rightfully assumes his name really is 'Harold,' asks. What an awful name to be burned with, but when he looks at the tag on the boy's apron, he freezes. Harry. That's the name of the boy he's suppose to be looking for. He could kiss Louis right now if it wouldn't be so weird and his amber eyes weren't so glued to some other gorgeous boy in front of them. 

 

"Actually, I'm not. See, I'm spending my day with a lovely old mate of mine and he kind of, sort of needs a job," Louis hums smoothly as moved to walk his fingers over the cash register before tapping the top three times. "Here," he finishes with a smug smile, but Harry only sighs as he writes the name of his customer down onto the clear cup before handing it off to someone else behind the counter. 

 

"I don't need any more people, Louis," he mumbles a bit sadly and Zayn can tell that Harry looks a little upset about it. Like, turning someone down that needs help really messes with his inner karma levels he has going on in his head. 

 

"C'mon, Harold—"

 

"That's still not my name." 

 

"—He's good for it, I swear. Hard worker, people pleaser, and look at this face. He'll drag in a million more customers for you," the blue-eyed boy keeps going before taking Zayn's cheeks between his hands and squishing them together. That kiss he had been so willing to give a few moments ago, is now turning into a promise of a punch. A hard one. Much like the one he gave Ward from two weeks ago. That is if Louis didn't throw a decent size punch back, which Zayn believes he would, so that is out of the question. 

 

"I'm sure he is rather lovely, Louis, but that doesn't cha—" Harry stops when Louis then grabs for his face and lifts it up to make green eyes glance over amber ones, making Zayn's breath hitch a little. Why? Because Harry's eyes are perfect. They're flawlessly colored and shaped and he swears there is a bit of gold in them around the irises and fuck, he's gone already and Harry doesn't seem to be much better when he whispers out a soft, "oh." 

 

"'Oh.' Exactly," Louis sasses as he drops his hands into his lap. "You try telling me that when people see him serving drinks and handing out the little pastries that you made that they aren't going to drop their jaws and drool over him." 

 

"No one would drool over me, Louis," Zayn deadpans. 

 

"I wouldn't be too sure," Harry shrugs with a small and playful smirk and 'oh,' is right. This boy, with the wild curls and very deep and raspy voice, is a flirt. That is something that could get Zayn into major trouble. Especially, when Harry has a face like that. "What's your name?"

 

"Demetri Malikov. Pretty cool, huh?" His best mate answers for him and yeah, he's pretty sure Louis is selling him pretty high, but Harry really seems to be paying attention now as he takes another order and punches in the numbers into the cash register. 

 

"Are you Russian?" 

 

"He speaks Russian." 

 

"Louis," Zayn sighs because isn't this suppose to be his interview? Though, Louis is doing a better job at getting him this 'job' than he is, himself. With a dismissive wave of a hand, Louis only chuckles and leans further back against the counter as his ankle hooks around the inside of Zayn's thigh, still holding him in place. 

 

"Now, now, Demetri. Let daddy work. If I let you two speak, you'll end up fucking before you get the job. Lets make sure you get it first," the older man winks, earning a scoff from the elder woman Harry just took an order from. Louis just chuckles with his head back as his hand slaps against his knee. "Hey, darling, I'm sure you were a fine one back in your day. Sex makes the world go 'round, y'know!" He calls cheekily as she walks away and towards the 'pick up' area for the coffees. 

 

"These are my customers, Louis. You can't just say such vulgar things like that," Harry mumbles under his breath before bringing a hand up to run through his hair as he leans his hip against the counter. There's no line now, just the three of them, as someone else is making the coffees in the back. That causes Zayn to relax a little further and even loosen up a bit. 

 

"Oh, c'mon. You know they are either a prude, getting laid, or watching porn anyways, so what's it matter?" The blue-eyed lad sighs as he leans back on his hands behind him and using his ankle to pull Zayn closer and smirk while nodding his head towards Harry. He knows what his friend is getting at, trying to get him to flirt back and seal the deal with the beautiful boy to get the job, but the thing is, he isn't good at that game and Louis knows it if his eye roll is anything to go by. "Demetri here though, is not a prude and he's very go—"

 

"Shut up, Louis," Zayn hisses as he slaps his forearm into the man's stomach and gets a glare in return. It's entertaining a bit, he won't lie, but it's the eyebrow raise that the barista gives that makes his heart jump a little faster in his chest. 

 

"Hmm.. I bet you are good. Something about the 'mysterious' look gets me." And oh, Harry has no idea just how 'mysterious' Zayn can be. "So, how about this; you start tomorrow as a waiter, bright and early with me, and we'll see what you can do. If I like you and you're as good as Louis seems to think you are, you stay and if you end up not working out, I'll have to let you go. Deal?"

 

"Deal," Zayn smiles as Louis winks towards him.

 

\----

 

"So, looks like you're officially back, badge and all," Ward says as he moves into the hallway that he next to Zayn's room on the plane, making the younger lad glance up through his lashes and suppress the urge to groan in annoyance. Ward's face is healed up a bit, leaving a small faded cut that should turn into a scar over the older man's eyebrow, and his lip doesn't seem to split everytime he speaks, much to Zayn's dismay. 

 

"You better have a point for being here and a damn good one at that," is all Zayn offers up, showing nothing but how irritated he still is with this lad by a flicker in his amber eye gaze. It's not that he wants to get into trouble again, but the temptation is too sweet when Ward is making a movie to lean against the entry way and raise his eyebrows like he has every right to be there in Zayn's space. 

 

"I just wanted to see how you were coming along. I know how you don't seem to work so well on those.. private detail accounts and this one is rather important."

 

"Then how come I got it and not you?" Zayn's smug, he knows it, and by the way Ward's expression is dropping into something that should have the raven-haired male running for the hills, he knows, also. The younger lad is prepared to milk this for all it is worth and more. 

 

"Because Coulson wanted to give you another chance. For some reason, he thinks the best of people like you and Skye," Ward mumbles and that makes Zayn even more smug as he leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, making sure to raise his own eyebrows. His eyes glance over the other man's form, taking in how he seems to be in 'standby' mode, meaning nothing too terribly interesting should be going on at the moment and Zayn can't help but feel a little more self-satisfied because he has something to work on and Ward is being held here useless. 

 

"People like Skye and I? What? Are we lower than you? Less intelligent? Of less value? Does it bother you that we can preform just as well as you, maybe even better, by being—"

 

"From a greater disadvantage," Zayn is cut off by, making him drop his smirk for a moment because that isn't exactly untrue. He and Skye are from a greater disadvantage. They have no family, no real friends, and they had gotten into a lot of trouble to stay afloat. They didn't have many morals or rules, everything was pretty much a guideline to them. They had no structure and nothing to rely on until Agent Coulson brought them in and gave them the closest thing to a family and a home as they could get to. "It is what it is, Malik. Some of us come from a background that give us ins to where we want to be and some of us get lucky and hope for the best when they have nothing else left." And really, it shouldn't hurt as much as it does, but Zayn can't stop it. He can't stop his gut from dropping into the pit of his stomach as the words settle in. "You're not a bad kid, Malik. You're not even a bad agent. You just have a lot more work to put in than the rest of us and I respect that, but you have to stop trying to prove yourself and falling back on those old instincts or you will never show that you've grown better. You will always be that troublemaker kid that was going nowhere. Don't be him," he finishes kindly, but Ward's tone gives something that makes Zayn think that maybe the older man gets it. Maybe he understands.

 

Ward leaves shortly after that and Zayn finds himself shutting the door to his small space and sitting on the floor with his gun, badge, and key card in front of him. He stares for a long time, hoping the answers to all his questions will be in the form of one or all of these three things, but they don't come. He keeps asking himself the same questions (why he was left alone, why no one came to look for him, did anyone care that he was some orphaned boy, etc..), but nothing happens and soon he is shaking his head at himself, placing everything back into his pockets and standing up. Being silly and temporarily philosophical will get him nowhere. He grabs his leather jacket and the bag he will be using to keep all his things in for while he is working this mission. Without looking back, he leaves his quarters and starts heading for the exit to the plane, giving a small nod to Skye, Jemma, and Leo, who are in the lab, working on something new. Something he's sure will be amazing, as everything else those three do. He'll see them soon, though, he knows, but not until he comes back with a success story. 

 

\----

 

Harry seems like the most normal lad Zayn could ever meet, which is saying a lot in his line of work. He's suppose to be looking for something that makes the curly-haired boy stand out, makes him worth Zayn protecting him from the Clairvoyant, but he's coming up short as he takes plates of cute cupcakes and darling little sandwiches over to customers. Why? Because it turns out that not only does Harry take orders from behind the counter, writing people's names on cups while flirting with everyone that walks by, but he also does the majority of the baking and let Zayn be the first to say; the sweet treats are possibly the cutest things he has ever seen in his life. Besides Harry Styles himself, of course. 

 

However, as adorable as those desserts are and as handsome as the boy is, they don't get Zayn any closer to figuring out why he is put on Harry's detail. Sure, it's only the first week and he hasn't really had much time to chitchat with the stranger, but he figured something would have happened by now. Usually, there's always something that's happened by now and if not, he can spot it from a mile away, but Harry? Zayn has nothing on the boy that is currently turning a wheel that is holding a cupcake he is decorating. His eyebrows are furrowed and his teeth are holding onto his bottom lip as he concentrates on the new idea, something Zayn thought was absolutely adorable. 

 

It's near Halloween, almost a week from the day, and Harry came up with a way to fill the inside of dark chocolate cupcakes with orange buttercream with a dot of green on top so that it looks like a pumpkin when someone bites inside. There's swirls of brown frosting on top, which Zayn can only assume is also chocolate-flavored, that the younger boy had made fresh that morning, with sprinkles of little edible white skulls and red spiders on top. It's absolutely darling and Zayn watches from the table he is busting to clean in complete awe. The outside world doesn't seem to exist as Harry finishes another cupcake and he steps back to look at it, checking to make sure everything is perfect, which Zayn thinks everything is, but apparently he is wrong when the other lad starts to frown. 

 

The other lad's eyebrows furrow as he crosses his flour-covered arms across his chest, tapping his foot in thought while Zayn watches. The older boy doesn't understand what's wrong with it though, because from the table he is now wiping down, it looks rather cute and is probably delicious, but Harry seems to have other adjectives in his head as he huffs and then glances over to the raven-haired lad, raising his eyebrows before wigging them suggestively when he catches the fact that Zayn is already looking at him. 

 

"See something you fancy, Malikov?" He teases, as usual, making Zayn roll his eyes fondly in attempt to keep his blush non-existent. He's barely making it work. However, it does cover, or at least dull, the sting of hearing the gorgeous boy call him by a name that isn't even his, but he can also hear the part that is and it makes him want so badly to hear Harry call him by his birth name. He wants to know what Harry's deep and sweet voice would sound like saying 'Zayn Malik.' He wants it and he wants it bad, but right now he'll settle for shrugging his shoulders and turning his head back down to look at the table. 

 

"I don't fancy many things, Harry," is what he says back and he isn't sure if his tone is agreeing to the younger lad's question or if he is telling Harry that it is hard to grab his attention, but what he does know is that he is not going to let himself pretend like he isn't head over heels for this boy already because he doesn't need that kind of distraction. He doesn't need something else getting in the way when he has a mission to finish. Especially, when said boy is that mission. 

 

"But you fancy me," Harry hums, so smooth and subtle that Zayn almost has to do a double take, but before he can respond, the boy is continuing with his words. If only Harry knew just how much the agent was starting to 'fancy' the other lad and just how distracting it can be. "Demetri, c'mere for a second, yeah?" He asks after, making Zayn nod and push the chair under the table once more as he drops the wet rag he was using into the bin on the other table. He dusts off his hands as he walks behind the counter and into the back and soon, he is standing within a foot of Harry. If he really wants to, he can reach out and brush his fingertips along the other male's side, maybe even his forearm if he is feeling brave, which sadly he wasn't. 

 

"What's wrong?" 

 

"These cupcakes.." Harry trails off for a moment.  "I just realized I have made about a dozen of them and don't know how they taste. How am I to know if they will be worth the price I put on them? I wouldn't want to shortchange anyone," he explains as he reaches his own hand out and grabs the base of the cupcake he has just finished. He rotates his fingers, turning the sweet treat in his hand before turning himself so he is facing Zayn with his hip against the edge of the decorating table. He looks good like that, Zayn thinks, as he lets his amber eyes take in the boy before him. Today, he's wearing some random white v-neck, showing the tips of some tattoos Zayn would love to learn every detail of, and a deep blue and white plaid over it and of course those ridiculously tight black jeans with some brown boots Zayn are sure need to be replaced soon. "Won't you be a babe and try it for me?" He asks after, pulling the other lad out of his thoughts, with the smallest of smirks, making Zayn lick across his bottom lip before swallowing hard. There Harry goes again, temping the older boy in ways he shouldn't. 

 

"I'm not much of a chocolate fan.." is the only thing Zayn can manage to think of to say as Harry extends his arm to bring the cupcake towards the raven-haired lad's mouth. It's slow and deliberate when Harry drags the frosting along his bottom lip, coating it with the sweet substance to the point where Zayn has to lick down his lip once more and bring the frosting into his mouth. He barely keeps himself from moaning because it's the best chocolate he has ever tasted. Not that he has had much, but this definitely takes the gold.

 

"Now, bite it," Harry demands quietly after, stepping forward, making them even closer, and for all that the other boy is younger, he is definitely taller, and that forces Zayn's amber eyes to look up through his lashes to watch the green ones above him as his bottom jaw drops open and his teeth sink into the cupcake. The eye contact isn't lost as he closes his mouth and takes his time chewing on the piece of deliciousness that rests on the center of his tongue. However, he starts to feel goosebumps rise on his tan skin when he notices that Harry's eyesight seems to drop from his own eyes down to his lips, making him fall a little self-conscious. Not that he has time to think about that before Harry's thumb is coming up and dragging against the corner of his mouth where some frosting seemed to have been resting. He swallows the bite in his mouth as the taller lad takes his thumb and places it between his own lips, sucking off the frosting and humming as his emerald eyes come back to watching Zayn. "Not bad," he smirks before smacking his lips and bringing his hand down. 

 

Zayn gives him absolutely no time before bringing his own hand up to rest against Harry's cheek, though, while leaning up to press their lips together, keeping them close because fuck, how is he suppose to ignore Harry when he went and did something like that? How is Zayn suppose to just watch Harry eat the frosting that was on the older boy's lips and not to a single thing about it? He isn't suppose to, he figures, which was probably Harry's plan all along because soon the taller boy is walking Zayn back until he hits the wall behind him with a soft groan. His hands scramble up to purchase in Harry's shirt, but end up instead in the boy's curls as the other lad's hands grab under his thighs and pushes him up the wall so he is forced to rely on the boy below him not to drop him. So he is forced to feel their chests bumping together as they breathe and allow his senses to be filled with only thoughts of Harry, Harry, Harry.

 

"I knew you'd give in eventually," Harry chuckles against Zayn's lips and yeah, maybe he has been rather easy, but he issn't going to give the curly-haired boy the satisfaction of winning right now. Not when he is being held against the wall and his thighs were wrapping around the taller boy's narrow hips, allowing his ankles to hook together behind the lad's arse to keep them close. "Maybe next time I can just lick the frosting off you." 

 

"Shut up, Harry," Zayn impatiently growls as he nips at Harry's bottom lip to refocus the lad's attention back on their kiss. Back on him.

 

"I'd like to see you try and make me," is said back at him with a familiar smirk before he is being kissed again, much harder than he had been two seconds ago, and Zayn would have lost himself in it completely if it hadn't been for the mixer randomly going off next to them, covering them in brown frosting and sadly, bringing an end to their second kiss. However, as Zayn seems to laugh softly at their lack of luck and even consider licking the frosting off the other boy's cheek, Harry grows stiff and nearly drops the smaller lad as his hips are pushed against the wall to make his legs slip from around Harry. His shoulders deflate and his heart drops because did Zayn do something? Did Harry not really want this?

 

"Harry?" He asks quietly, frowning as Harry takes a step away to turn off the mixer. The funny part is, though.. the mixer isn't even plugged in. It's just resting there on the counter with the head down and locked. The plug is resting there next to it and Zayn hadn't thought much of it because the other lad likes to unplug everything after using it, even if he will need it again in five minutes. Harry says it's something about saving the environment, but now Zayn is thinking it's something else. Something else that makes Harry uncomfortable to the point where he flips so suddenly. "Harry, is every—"

 

"Get out," Harry murmurs and it makes Zayn still because, what? This boy is usually doing everything in his power to drag the older lad closer and now he is shoving him away as though they hadn't just been having a rather nice moment.

 

"Did I do some—"

 

"Get out, please, Demetri.." The lad breathes so delicately that it causes Zayn's breath to catch in his own throat. It isn't fair, he thinks. It isn't fair that he finally gives in, impulsively goes against the rules yet again, just for some stupid kiss with his detail and now he was being told to leave. After all that fun flirting and playful teasing, he is being rejected by the one person he thought he had in the bag. "Go home. Take the rest of the day off, too. Just go." 

 

So Zayn does, with a heavy heart and a bruised ego. 

 

\----

 

"I thought it was going so good, Lou. One minute we were kissing and the next he was shoving me off like I was something disgusting. He told me to get out and when I came back in the next day, he didn't come in for work," Zayn huffs as he watches Louis play some board game with Landon. 

 

Landon is four years old, beautiful, and brilliant. Louis has taught him his abc's and how to count to twenty in both English and French already. He can already read most basic words and sound out a little longer ones, which Louis encourages everywhere they go. He's blonde, green-eyed (much like Harry's), and fair skinned, but it's his personally that really makes Zayn see why Louis loves his job so much. Landon isn't too loud, nor too quiet, and his smile is so bright it could put the sun's rays to shame. He's upbeat and cheerful, despite the lacking parental love he seems to be getting at home, but his best mate fills the void in pretty well, if Zayn does say so himself. 

 

"Maybe he was just feeling a little ill and didn't want to get you sick," Louis shrugs as Landon pulls a card from the stack in the center of the board and looks at the color before moving his little character towards the specific box. "What color is that buddy?" He asks, running his fingers through the blonde atop the boy's head. 

 

"Purple," Landon chirps and in return, Louis gives him an Oreo before moving his hand down to pat the child's back.

 

"Good job. Purple is right," he smiles before glancing over to Zayn and sucking in a deep breath. Something he usually does before telling Zayn something the younger lad isn't going to want to hear. Which, he does when he says, "maybe he thought he wanted it and then turned around and realized it wasn't what he wanted." And that? It makes Zayn crumble inside a little because what the fuck is that suppose to mean? 

 

"How can he just wants something and then not?" Zayn asks in disbelief as the older bad takes a card and moves his own character around to a red square before slipping the card under the stack. 

 

"What I mean is.. I've never actually heard or seen him with a lad before. It's always 'this bird I met' and 'she was so ace,' and I'm about a hundred and fifty percent sure he has never even touched a boy like that until this kiss you just mentioned, which you started." 

 

"But he flirted first and pushed me against the wall," Zayn pointed out as he sighed and ran a hand through his hair before crossing them on the table in front of him. They're at a park, one of Landon's favorites, he is told, and it's nice. The weather isn't too bad and it isn't overcrowded, which is also ideal for Zayn. However, his chest still feels heavy as he thinks about said kiss with Harry that had happened three days ago. It hurts to think that he was so bad that Harry didn't show up the day after and when he came back on Friday, he completely ignored Zayn. No flirting, no comments, not even a glance. It had been as if Zayn was no longer there and he just didn't understand what went wrong. 

 

Though, what he is sure of, was yesterday was a weird day at the coffeeshop. See, the electronics had been going off at random points of the day and Harry had been more frustrated than usual. He even snapped at one of the baristas when she messed up someone's order after the blender lost its top and sent the strawberry and mango smoothie everywhere. He didn't seem to have his baking or decorating mojo and every little thing was setting him off. The lights had been temperamental as they flashed on and off throughout the day and Harry was a hot cannon ready to explode if someone crossed him the wrong way. He had never seen the boy so worked up before. 

 

But then he thinks about Louis' words again and what if this is just some late identity crisis that Harry hasn't worked through yet? What if Harry hasn't had that moment to question if he likes lads or birds or maybe both? That kind of makes a little sense to Zayn because that can be something hard to figure out. Maybe Harry only thought he liked Zayn and now he didn't. Maybe. 

 

"Wait, do you mean to say you two never.."

 

"No," Louis chuckles suddenly, causing Landon to look up from where he is sitting and watch Louis with a fond expression. "No, Harry and I have never. That isn't to say I haven't tried. I just don't think I'm his type and besides, he's a bit to hipster, goody-goody, 'let me be your superhero' for me. No offense to him." That causes Zayn to laugh, also, and nod in agreement. "However, you could use a bit of that in your life, dear Demetri. You need someone to keep you in line and keep you from running off without word. He could be good for you. You could make something of this fondness. What was that phrase you had used? 'Establish some roots?' He could be that starting root."

 

"If he wants me.."

 

"Oh, he does," Louis assures seriously as he then whispers something into Landon's ear and gives him a fiver before nodding his head towards the ice cream stand with the yellow and white umbrella. 

 

"And what makes you say that?" Zayn scoffs as Landon bounces away, because Louis has this habit (that hasn't seem to of changed in the past couple years), where he thinks he is all-knowing and that he is linked into everyone's loop. 

 

"Because he's heading this way," Louis mumbles before swiftly moving forward and pressing his lips to Zayn's. His body moves up so that he is leaning over the table as his hand comes out to grab Zayn's shirt and pull him closer, obviously making a show. Zayn can tell because the shorter lad is licking across his bottom lip to make the taller one part them, allowing Louis to lick inside and create a home for his tongue. He kisses deep and slow, but not passionate, not really, because they don't belong to each other, not like that, but it's enough to get Zayn to kiss him back as he catches onto the idea or maybe because fuck, it feels good to be kissed.

 

"Ahem," he hears a moment later and he almost frowns when Louis pulls away and maybe he's a little breathless, but hey, he isn't complaining all the much when he sees what he swears is a flash of jealousy in Harry's bright green orbs. Maybe Louis' plans aren't all too bad. 

 

"Oh, Harold. Fancy meeting you here. How are you, dear?" Louis hums with a smile that Zayn wants to call 'smug,' but he isn't sure. He's still in a bit of a daze. Not because he fancies Louis or anything like that, no, but because the look on Harry's face seems to give away the fact that he actually seems to give a shit that Zayn kissed someone else and that? That makes him even more confused because Harry pushed him away. Not the other way around. 

 

"I think I should be asking you that question, Louis," Harry says back and although his tone is calm, he sounds anything but as he clears his throat once more and bites the inside of his cheek. Zayn can see where his teeth cut into the flesh behind where those wonderful dimples go. Ones he wishes he could see again. "May I steal Demetri for a moment?" 

 

"By all means," his best mate offers up as he leans back a little and waves his arm towards the raven-haired male. Like he is nothing more than a toy to be passed between the two and although he knows that isn't the case and that Louis is just trying to help him out, it seems to have other consequences when Harry's fingers are curling around his biceps. His grip nearly pulls off his arm and dislocates it from his shoulder as he is pulled up and lead a few feet away. 

 

"So, that's it?" The curly-haired boy asks with a voice low and deep. His eyebrows as furrowed and Zayn swears he can feel the physical anger that seems to come off this lad in front of him.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I mean, Demetri, that because I stop talking to you for a day, you're off kissing Louis? Or have you two been together this entire time? Was I just some game between the two of you?" 'Demetri,' there it is again, his mistakes coming back to slap him across the face and Harry doesn't even know what he's doing, but it's making everything feel that much heavier. It's making Zayn's walls come back up in attempt to protect himself from the one thing he didn't feel like he had to. 

 

"Excuse me?" Zayn hisses under his breath because who is Harry to accuse him of such things? Who is Harry to comment on who Zayn kisses and who he doesn't? Because as far as Zayn is concerned, it is none of the younger boy's business because– "You pushed me away, remember? I gave you your chance and you kicked me out."

 

"And that means you go and fuck the first person that comes along?" 

 

"Who said anything about us fucking, Harry?" Zayn snaps, this time though, he's a little louder. Where has this side of the other boy come from? For the entire week and a half that Zayn has been working with Harry, never once has he acting out like this. It makes absolutely no sense to him and if he is being honestly with himself (which is usually a very rare thing), he's a bit insulted by this boy's behavior. Does Harry think that low of him?

 

"Well, you two were just kissing. Probably getting off about how you managed to get me to kiss you. Was it funny?—"

 

"What? Harry, no—"

 

"—Was he the first to try and when it didn't work, you came in looking for a job to try and win whatever little bet is between you?" Harry continues and ouch, it hurts. It has Zayn stepping back for a moment because he's at a loss. Harry looks so utterly heartbroken and the older lad doesn't even understand it. He had been the one that was rejected, not Harry. 

 

"It wasn't like that!"

 

"Oh? It wasn't? Please explain to me how it doesn't look that way."

 

"Look, I don't know who got your fucking knickers in a bunch, but you need to calm the fuck down," Zayn mumbles as he looks around. They are making a fuss and he hates when he attracts attention. "And even if we were fucking, which we aren't, why does it bother you so much? Honestly, because I don't see how this has anything to do with you. We aren't anything and last I checked, you didn't want to be. You flirted with me and you were cheeky and when I kissed you, you kissed back, but then you sent me on my fucking way and ignored me the day after. What am I suppose to think?" 

 

"That maybe I needed some time to think about it. That maybe I had to check some things and needed a little space to figure it out."

 

"Then you should have told me. I'm not a fucking mindreader, Harry!"

 

"I know that!" Harry shouts at him suddenly, making Zayn tense and freeze before hearing a little child's screaming. His head turns and soon he is seeing Louis squatting down and covering Landon when the colorful game board goes flying at them. His breath catches for a moment before he goes to look back over to Harry, wanting to silently ask what the fuck that was before he sees the taller lad is running for it. He's pushing and weaving in between people and it doesn't take long until Harry is out of sight and Zayn is swallowing hard. He gets it now. 

 

He gets everything. 

 

He waits a moment or two before going over to Louis, who is grabbing Landon's cheeks and letting his thumbs rub against the skin to relax him. Landon is hysterical, which Zayn understands because small children don't do well with things flying at them, but he seems to be calming down as Louis bumps his head with the little boy's and whispers soft words of kindness.

 

"Hey.. Hey, calm down, buddy. The wind was just insane, yeah? But we're okay, aren't we?" Louis breathes as he lifts his head to press a kiss to Landon's forehead before glancing over to Zayn and raising his eyebrow. "Quite a show you two put on. Want to tell me what the hell happened?" He asked and more must of happened because once Zayn looks around and checks out the scene around where Harry and him were, he sees the mess. 

 

Trash cans had been knocked over, littering the area, and leaves had gathered in small little tornadoes. The lights were flickering and some bulbs even broke and scattered glass along the pavement. The game pieces are everywhere and the birds in the air keep chirping and squawking, making Zayn want to rip all their vocal chords out. People are looking at him like he is insane, maybe clinically. 

 

He wouldn't exactly blame them.

 

\----

 

Harry avoids him for weeks after that. 

 

It becomes several weeks of Zayn cleaning tables and delivering coffee to customers as Harry falls quiet behind the register. His voice is monotone and rushed as the younger lad rattles off demands for him and then disappears into the back alone once making someone else take his spot making caffeinated drinks. Usually, from what Zayn has seen from before their little argument, Harry has other people back there while he decorates, letting them get the baking done and do the easy work while he adds the finishing touches, but it seems like now Harry would rather be alone back there.

 

That isn't the only thing that starts to change. 

 

Soon, Harry starts coming in later and leaving earlier, eliminating any room for Zayn to try and wiggle his way into a conversation. He doesn't flirt anymore and there are no more cheeky comments from the younger lad. Harry doesn't even glance his way when Zayn goes over to the counter to grab a pastry for a customer and walk it back. The raven-haired boy barely gets to hear his voice and when he does, it's because once again something has gone off near Harry and makes him curse under his breath as he gets covered by whatever he was doing. Yesterday was coffee, today seems to be whipped cream since Harry refuses to buy store bought products. He makes everything.

 

However, Zayn is starting to become desperate because even though in the beginning he had been a little put off by that seductive and cheeky tone and slow drawl of a voice, he was definitely missing them now. He misses when Harry use to walk by and drag his fingertips over the small of Zayn's back as he was bent over cleaning the counter and he misses the way Harry would look him up and down while licking his lips and saying, 'Louis really sold you short.' He misses having to hide his blush and try not to trip over his own feet when hearing Harry's lame pickup lines and he wants them back. 

 

So, what does one do when trying to grabs someone's attention? 

 

Well, he starts with invading Harry's personal space. 

 

He goes out of his way to make sure he is in the same place as Harry. Whether it be at the counter, taking people's names and orders, or in the back, baking when he is decorating on those rare few days that he needs more hands back there. He makes sure to take his break in the same room as Harry and will constantly walk by him or talk to people around the other lad because then he knows the boy can hear him and can't get away from him. He'll even go as far as bumping into him when he had plenty of space and he will knock his elbows into Harry's or maybe 'accidentally' block the doorway to a room so they have to awkwardly try to move around each other. Zayn makes it his personal mission to try to get anything out of this boy and when nothing works, not even so much as getting a glance, he steps it up. 

 

Next, he goes with something a little more obnoxious. 

 

When personal space doesn't seem to be a problem for Harry, for whatever reason Zayn doesn't understand because he needs his personal space, he decides to just start causing scenes to hopefully gear Harry's attention towards him. He starts wearing tighter jeans and tank tops to show off his tattoos and he lets his hair grow out just a little and his scruff fill in so he looks a bit rougher around the edges. He starts wearing his Vans and letting a few bracelets pile up on his wrists. He even lets his silver necklace show outside of his shirt that he never lets anyone see and when that doesn't work, he dyes a streak of blonde onto the front of his pitch black quiff. He at least gets a look that day and he feels rather smug about it for the whole shift he has to work.

 

Then, he figures, is the flirting, but no, not flirting with Harry. 

 

Instead, he allows their customers to run their fingers over his tattoos as he comes by their tables to place mugs of cappuccinos and hot chocolate down, smiling when they ask him so nicely. He accepts receipts that have random girls' and boys' numbers and some even have lipstick stains from the kisses they leave, making Zayn feel even more smug because with each, more blenders and mixers start to go off and they have to keep replacing lightbulbs in the overhead lamps. The numbers on the clocks start to count up too fast everytime Zayn tells some bird she is 'looking as beautiful as ever today' and the mugs start to fly against the walls in the back where Harry is poorly attempting to keep himself calm as he starts the pumpkin bread, but he is failing miserably. 

 

And finally, he starts to flirt with Harry. 

 

He leans the small of his back against the counter right next to Harry as the younger lad tries to take orders and write names on cups while attempting to ignore him. It doesn't work. Especially, when Zayn lifts his hand and brushes the backs of his knuckles against Harry's hips and sometimes even his biceps, while whispering things like, 'remember when you pushed me up against the wall? I was thinking you could never be capable of something like that' and he'll wait for Harry to stay something, anything, but nothing happens, so instead Zayn starts to get creative. He'll start to catch Harry against walls and murmur in the younger boy's ear how hot he looks with his hair all messy and how Zayn wants to run his fingers through them. 

 

Though, in the end, not even that works and he's getting worse than desperate. He's getting frustrated and he's starting to think maybe he isn't all that. That maybe Louis has instead been selling him too high and that he has nothing to offer that makes him different from everyone else. That is until a few days later, nearing the end of November, he is getting a text from Harry's number, asking him to come over. It makes Zayn furrow his eyebrows before slowly grabbing his leather jacket and throwing on his boots. 

 

He follows the directions on his phone, even though he has already seen this place the first day he was in town so that he knew were his detail was, until he catches the address that shows the one he is suppose to be getting at. He makes his way inside and heads for the lift, slipping inside and pressing the number that will bring him to the fourth floor. Once he is out, Harry's door is actually straight across the hall and to the left, the second door on the left, to be exact. His hand comes up to knock, but before he can, it's opening to show a tired-lookinh, jumper-wearing, Harry Styles. 

 

He looks worn out as he opens the door wider for Zayn to be allowed access to step in and as the door shuts and locks behind him, he slowly peels off his jacket because it's obvious he is staying awhile. How does he know that? Because soon, Harry is coming for him without warning and grabbing his cheeks to pull him into a kiss that Zayn couldn't pull away from even if he wanted to. However, he doesn't want to and instead he brings his own hands up to grab Harry's hips, pulling him closer as the boy licks across his bottom lip to get them to part, which Zayn does. Zayn lets him in and lets him get close because he's been wanting this for weeks. He's wanted Harry to kiss him again since that time in the back room. 

 

So, of course he allows Harry to run his hands down his sides until they reach the back of his thighs and of course he jumps when those hands then grab his limbs and force him up to curl his legs around the younger lad's waist, hooking his ankles behind Harry. He then brings his own arms up curl around Harry's neck as his fingers grip into the hair there, tugging to bring Harry's head back so he can deepen the kiss. He doesn't even notice when they start to move and are making their way towards some room down the hall. It only takes about five seconds though, before his back is hitting the mattress of Harry's bed and the taller lad is moving to crawl over him, not once pulling away from the kiss. 

 

That is until the boy's lips start to drag down Zayn's jaw and neck, making the older boy turn his head away to give more room and that's when he notices just how bare Harry's home is. There's nothing on the walls and there's really nothing that is loose and hanging around on the shelves of the floor. Nothing but clothes, anyways. He notices that everything is unplugged here just as it is back at work and he wonders if Harry has always had to live like this; so simplistically. If this boy has had to keep everything so in check and make sure nothing falls out of place because bad things could happen. If he feared the power that rested in his own mind. If he feared himself.

 

"Oh, fuck," Zayn moans, breaking his thoughts, when Harry's hand finds itself against the bulge in his pants and hell, he hadn't even noticed he was already getting worked up. Though, it doesn't surprise him because the other male is sinking his teeth into Zayn's flesh, leaving marks as he continues his path downward on the older lad's body. It causes Zayn's hips to buck up and his head to turn back over to focus his attention on Harry because he can look at the flat later. It's not as important as what's going on right now. 

 

A tan hand comes up to the back of Harry's head once more, using the leverage allowed in Harry's hair to bring the lad's lips back to his own as other hands start to trail up his sides under his shirt. They're soft and gentle, but they have purpose, Zayn can feel it in the way Harry's fingers twitch in thought, not knowing what to feel and grab first. So, Zayn let's him take his time and instead starts to kiss Harry a little slower so he doesn't feel as rushed. He spreads his legs to allow the other man to slip between them, letting him get comfortable as Harry's fingers decide on what they want to do. 

 

In the end, they choose to pull off Zayn's shirt, momentarily stopping their kiss, and they throw the unwanted fabric onto the floor so that Zayn is left laying there on the bed, torso exposed, as he watches Harry's face. His green eyes are wide and his pupils are nearly erasing what little green is even still there and it's a sight that makes Zayn almost give a keen whine because he did that. He finally made Harry want him enough to do something about it and here they are, sharing a moment that has the older boy holding his breath because he isn't sure what the younger boy is going to do next. 

 

"You're a lot more beautiful than I originally thought," Harry murmurs, sounding more like an after thought to only himself, but Zayn doesn't get a chance to respond because those lips he had been kissing just moments ago were now making their way down his chest. His chest that is rather flushed, even in the poorly lit room, because this is the most intimate moment he has ever had with someone.

 

That isn't to say he is a virgin, because he's not. Not even close. In fact, he and Louis use to mess around all the time, but the thing is, it's always been just that; messing around. It's been a quick fuck to pass the time when missions were slow or he needed to get intel on something. He has seduced his fair share of enemies to get inside their place and steal information, but never one of his details. However, as the moment grows longer and longer, Harry's motions become more delicate and precise, meaning this is just the beginning and it makes Zayn's heartbeat increase as he tilts his head down to watch Harry attach his lips to his hip, sucking another bruise that causes a groan full of pleasure to fall from his own set of lips. 

 

Harry goes on like that for awhile, it seems. Just kissing Zayn's skin and letting his fingers and lips map out the area. The other boy seems to take his time committing to memory where every tattoo rests and his tongue traces them. It has Zayn's breath hitching every few seconds and his pants only get tighter and tighter because he was ready to to about ten minutes ago and now it was just getting painful, but on another note, he can see the determination in Harry's movements and he lets the boy have it because he doesn't want to lose this. It's possibly the greatest feeling in the world as Zayn leans his head back in the pillows and stares up at the ceiling. His arms are spread out beside him, waiting for Harry to move them as he pleases because Zayn doesn't want to push and scare Harry away. He doesn't want to risk losing this fragile moment because he did something and rushed them through it. 

 

It only takes about two more minutes of that before those same fingers that traced his hipbones and muscles lines are now fumbling with his belt and the buttons on his trousers. They are smooth and waste no time, but at the same time, they still aren't rushing. Zayn as to curl his fingers into the duvet though as fingers turn into hands and those hands are grabbing the sides of his waistband to pull his ridiculously tight jeans down his slim legs and off onto the floor, also. Those hands then slide back up his thighs and there as soft kisses being pressed against the inner sensitive side and that time, Zayn does give that keen whine and he does close his eyes as he forces his hips to stay down because Harry's lips feel so good. He feels like they are burning his flesh in the most pleasurable way. 

 

"Harry," he breathes softly, trying to calm himself down, but it's proving rather difficult when he is hard and Harry's face is right there, now pressing a kiss to where the head of his cock is under his stupid black boxers. It makes him wiggle his hips a little before Harry's hands come down to hold them against the mattress once more as he leans up to press his lips against Zayn's. They kiss lazily for a moment, just focusing on each other's closeness before hands are once again sliding down his hips and leading his last article of clothing off his body. 

 

It's when he is completely naked and Harry has moved himself to straddle the older boy that he realizes that beautiful boy above him is still entirely clothed. Well, as much as he was when he opened the door. He's in some random white jumper that makes Zayn smile fondly because it looks so good against his chestnut curls, that definitely show more since he doesn't have them styled back. There's some sort of blue or purple boxers under, that actually makes Harry's legs look that much better and he can't help but bring his hands up to place them on the tops of Harry's thighs, letting his thumbs brush and slide under the hem of those pesky boxers that are really only in the way. 

 

"What do you want, Harry?" Zayn asks after a few moments, flicking his gaze up to watch Harry through his lashes. 

 

"Something I can't have."

 

"I didn't ask if you could have it or not. I asked ' _what do you want?_ '" He tries again with a much softer voice while the pads of his thumbs rub over the skin under Harry's boxers. He lets the boy think for a moment, but those greens eyes never leave his amber ones and they sit there like that for a short while, with Harry's hands coming down to rest on top of his. Zayn doesn't know how long they wait there, but he can practically hear Harry's gears turning in his head until— 

 

"You," he whispers as he moves his fingers to tangle them with Zayn's. "Only you."

 

"Then you have me," is all that is given back before his hands are led to be pinned next to his head, making him groan because he's use to being the one that has the control. He's the protector. He's the one that keeps everything running. It's a protective measure. However, with Harry, once again those walls are falling down and he is falling pliant as Harry's hips start to roll down into his own and– oh, this boy is just as hard as he is. He can feel it through that thin amount of fabric between them. 

 

Eventually, Harry's jumper comes off and his boxers as being discarded onto the floor with the rest of their clothing, but it is all done by his own hands and Zayn just patiently waits for him. He waits and he allows Harry to take as much time as he feel he may need because he's starting to feel how nervous Harry is getting. He can sense how he is starting to panic and all Zayn does is lean up and press a kiss to Harry's neck, nudging his nose against his pulse point as his hands come up to reach for Harry's. Once they have them, he leads them down to his cock, holding them there as they start to move up and down until Harry seemed to get it and he let go, just letting the younger boy explore for a moment and of course he moans a little when a finger slides over his slit and catches the pre-cum there, spreading it around further. 

 

"Relax, Harry. Just relax," he hums in attempt to get the other lad to loosen up those muscles that have got to be making his shoulder blades sore. He then drops his head a little, letting his forehead rest there against Harry's shoulder as his eyes close because fuck, he's only human and this boy's fingers feel so, so good against him. Especially, when Harry seems to get a little braver and is soon wrapping his whole entirely hand around him, closing into a fist that is almost too tight. "A little less, like this," he continues quietly after a small hiss as he takes Harry's hand once more and eases him into a looser grip before looping his other arm around Harry's waist and pulling him closer. His fingers rub small, soothing circles into the small of the boy's back before soon, he is really moaning because Harry is spot on. 

 

"Like that?" The younger boy asks and Zayn doesn't need to look up to know he is smirking because he can hear the smug tone in Harry's tone, no matter how timid and light it is. He does roll his eyes though, before biting into the lad's shoulder and sucking his own mark there to lay claim. He has his own smirk when Harry's breathing seems to take a hit and soon, Harry's bringing his own cock to rub against his and of course his hand is big enough to hold them both as he slides his hand up and down the way Zayn just showed him. 

 

"Shit," Zayn stutters as his hips come up to meet Harry's. 

 

Harry only gives a few more moments of that pleasurable friction before soon his hands are leading away from their cocks and towards Zayn's chest, pushing him down onto the bed once more as Harry slyly moves to slip in between his thighs once more. Now it's the older boy's turn to feel his breathing hitch because Harry's lips are moving to suck marks on the inside of his thighs again as his left arm reaches for something Zayn doesn't think to really pay attention to. Not when his eyes are rolling back into his skull and his head is resting heavier and heavier against the pillow underneath. His hips nearly jump though when Harry's got his cold finger right down there against his taint, making him gasp a little before it turns into a moan. 

 

"I think it's your time to relax now, Demetri."

 

"Are you really going to be cheeky with me right now?" Zayn asks in disbelief, but all he gets back is a smug smirk before that finger is slipping inside him and– oh, that is definitely different. He's never been on the receiving end and maybe he has been naïvely thinking that Harry would be the one to bottom because of how sweet and gentle he is, but Zayn will let the younger lad have this. He will allow Harry to do this as he pleases because in the end, they are doing it together and that's about as far as Zayn can think of right now when that finger is slowly pushing more and more inside himself. He can feel himself start to stretch to accommodate Harry's finger and fuck, did the thing ever end? It is like the boy's finger is a mile long. It just keeps sinking further and further inside of him until–

 

Zayn huffs in frustration when the taller lad stops moving his limb, making the other boy's eyebrows furrow together in between his closed eyes because surely Harry isn't done, right? He wiggles his bum for a moment to try and get Harry to move once more, but the younger male's hand comes up and grabs his hip to keep him down and still against the mattress. That makes Zayn stop moving, sure, but it doesn't help him become any less confused about what the hell Harry is trying to get at. What the point of just stopping in the middle of stretching him really gets him. 

 

"Wha—" Zayn tries before there are lips against his own, moving delicately and it doesn't take long or much to get Zayn to kiss back. He's a sucker for kisses, especially, long and lazy ones, and this one is definitely just that. It's got purpose and Harry is once again taking his time as he rubs the pad of his thumb over Zayn's hipbone. 

 

"Why are you trying to go so fast? Slow down with me," the other lad breathes, sounding more like a plea, into the kiss as he pulls his finger back out and then pushes in a little smoother with less resistance. It makes Zayn's stomach pull at itself for a moment as he tries to get use to the sensation, but soon that finger is curling inside him, getting a feel for him and he lets Harry continue like that for while. He lets him take his time and get what he can and in return, Harry kisses him continuously, so he doesn't have to think about how weird this is for him. 

 

After a couple minutes, the younger boy has worked three fingers inside him, spreading them and curling up into places that have Zayn's breath hitching and his hips jumping in attempt to get closer. His olive skin tone is covered with a thin sheet of sweat and there's pre-cum smearing on his stomach from his cock, just as Harry has on himself. They're both hard, almost to the point of being painful, but Harry doesn't fight to move faster and Zayn doesn't push him into it. Not when there are lips kissing and nipping along his slightly scruff jaw and tinting neck from the blush that is creeping down his chest. 

 

Lips that he wishes would stay where they are forever, but Zayn wouldn't be here forever. Once Harry was safe, Zayn would be gone, and this boy wouldn't even know his real name. Louis didn't even know that name. It is too personal and too dangerous and yet he finds himself turning his head to nudge his nose against the other lad's to try and bring their lips back towards one another, which works. Harry doesn't hesitate to rise his face and brush their lips together as he rubs the pads of his fingers up into Zayn's prostate.

 

"H-Harry, there's something you should know," he whispers suddenly, breath heavy because he so ready for Harry to just have him, but he feels like if he gives into this, if he lets the younger boy have this right now after all this emotion has been added into it, it would be a lie. Everything built between them would be a lie and he almost has the nerve to cry as Harry shakes his head and kisses him once more. 

 

"Not now. Maybe tomorrow, but not now."

 

And they don't. 

 

Harry just eventually pulls his fingers out and scatters kisses everyone he can get to on Zayn as his long fingers fight with some condom so he can roll it onto himself and Zayn? Zayn waits there in that limbo of wanting more and almost backing out because he doesn't know if he can do this and yet, when Harry comes over to him again and the head of his cock is pressing into the older boy's hole, he gives. He completely gives and brings his arms to curl around Harry with his fingertips pressing into the shoulder blades that are holding the taller lad up as his hand is braced against the side of Zayn's head. He closes his eyes and buries it into the crook of Harry's neck, holding him tight as the other sinks further and further into him until there's nowhere else for Harry to go. 

 

So, maybe Zayn finally feels a little complete when they are officially snug together and he is pushing himself up, effectively moving Harry back to sit cross-legging under Zayn. Maybe the older male brings his hand to the back of Harry's head to hold him there as he awkwardly moves to wrap his thighs around the boy's waist with his ankles crossed behind Harry's bum until he is contently sitting on Harry's lap with his cock fully seethed inside him. Maybe he clings a little tighter as he finally moves his hips over Harry and rocks forward as the other lad's hands come to hold his hips and help him move more smoothly. 

 

It stays slow like that, Harry just holding Zayn close and maneuvering him up and down as Zayn presses many kisses to the shoulder under his chin. They don't rush as their breathing syncs together and their speed increases enough to have both of them moaning and shifting closer into each other. Zayn can't even tell whose chest is really moving against the other's as he digs his fingers a little into Harry's back and scalp. However, what he does know is that whatever this is, whatever they are doing here, it's working Zayn up and making everything more intense for him as he lifts himself to bounce just enough to press against his prostate. 

 

Zayn comes with a sharp, but small, moan and his teeth sink into Harry's shoulder in attempt to keep himself rather quiet, and Harry isn't too far behind him it seems because he can feel himself clench tight around the younger boy and soon Harry is pulsing inside him and emptying himself into the condom. Though, they don't move until Harry gets too soft and slips out of Zayn, but his arms only curl tighter around the older boy as they awkwardly get under Zayn's bum to pull off the condom and tie it before tossing it into the rubbish bin. He also reaches over the edge of the bed to grab his shirt, using it to clean both his and Zayn's stomachs up before tossing it back down to the ground. Once that is taken care of, he is back to holding Zayn into his chest, hooking his chin over the other lad's shoulder as Zayn breathes him in and uses his fingers to card through Harry's lightly sweated hair. 

 

They don't say anything, and Zayn no longer wants to because he wishes he was Demetri Malikov right now. He wishes he could just be some waiter in a pretty boy's bakery with nothing to worry about except for how he was going to pay his bills that month and if Harry would call him the next day. He wants to have a life where he could fall asleep with Harry every night and wake up with him every morning, but instead, he is an agent, working undercover with an alias, who had just slept with his detail. His detail that is now leading him away from his chest and laying him down against the mattress before pulling him into the younger boy's chest. 

 

Harry curls his arms around Zayn as the raven-haired lad rests his cheek over Harry's heartbeat and maybe he almost cries because he can't come back from this. He could never tell Harry now, but once the duvet is pulled over them and there are fingertips brushing against his spine, he pushes those thoughts away to focus on Harry. He sighs softly and watches the wall where he can tell something has smashed against it at one point or another, but shortly after the other boy starts to hum under his breath, making his chest rattle from the sound, Zayn is out. 

 

\----

 

There's a light breeze coming from the window when Zayn finally feels himself returning to reality and there's a small sliver of light cascading over his arm, brightening his tattoos against the skin there. The duvet is still completely wrapped around him and his cheek is firmly pressed into the pillow of which he seemed to have taken over the night before. However, what there isn't, is a warm body under his like there was the night before and he finds that he is rather cold without the extra body holding him. 

 

Amber eyes blink open after some time and tan arms go to push themselves up and just as he had feared moments ago, he is alone in the king size bed and the other half of the mattress is no longer warm. Though, there is something there and it makes Zayn furrow his eyebrows as he goes to push himself up further until he is sitting on his knees and the duvet as moved to fall around the waist of his naked body. He reaches a hand for the object on the bed and holds it delicately before smiling to himself and letting his other hand's index finger brush over it. 

 

A white orchid. 

 

It's beautiful and although Zayn knows absolutely nothing about flowers in general, he at least knows that a flower like this is hard to come by and it makes him feel that much more important and special. However, it wouldn't be Harry if there wasn't at least some sort of note left behind and he isn't disappointed when he finds a small and elegant letter connected to the stem of his lovely flower. One that Zayn has yet to put down. 

 

_White orchids are elegant, much like you, and they represent kindness and truth. White orchids are given to mark new beginnings, like on a first date or in weddings, but I'm not asking you to marry me and we missed our first date. Though, I sincerely hope you will be my new beginning._

_\- H.S. x_

 

It's cheesy, much like Harry usually is, and maybe it's a little sappy and hopeful, but it makes Zayn's smile that much more genuine as he lifts the orchid to smell and even lets the white petals brush his lips. His eyes read over the note once, twice, seven times before he really realizes what has happened. Harry's left him all alone in his flat while he is gone. He has let Zayn sleep in for work, seeing as it was ten in the morning now, and has left him to his own devices in a foreign flat. 

 

It seems as though Harry wants Zayn to make himself at home though, because next to the flower, buried a little by the pillow, is another object with a less than elegant note attached to it. Much like an after thought of sorts. 

 

_Lock the door when you leave. Keep the key after. See you at work._

_\- H.S. x_

 

And maybe that last note is something that should have Zayn running for the hills because he's only known Harry for a month and they've only just slept together, but for some reason, it feels like more than that. Given what the raven-haired boy is starting to learn about the other lad, he knows that Harry must not be use to this. That even if he sleeps with other girls and he invites them over, maybe, that Zayn is something more special. He is the exception because he's the first boy and he's the one with the key. He's the one that makes Harry's abilities soar out of control and he's the one Harry can't keep himself away from and maybe that makes him smug, sue him. He likes— _loves_ knowing that it's him that really means something to the small-town baker. 

 

He sits like that for awhile, just letting his fingers and lips continuously feel the softness of the petals until he figures he should probably shower and get dressed for work, knowing Harry may like him, but doesn't want him to take advantage of their new relationship. Not that he blames the taller lad because work is work and at the end of the day, Harry is not only his detail, but his boss. A boss that is a rather big distraction as he continues to sit there and watch his flower as if when he blinks, it will disappear. 

 

However, eventually, he gets up and uses Harry's shower, taking in how clean the counters are and how nothing is out of place. Though, there's a crack in the corner of the mirror above the sink and the door doesn't quite close all the way, due to it being off the henge on the bottom. The window above the tub is boarded up, making him believe there is probably no glass on the other side of the wood frame, and the glass that makes up the rectangle that is the shower looks scratched and spiderwebbed while the tile inside is also a bit chipped, but Zayn figures most of the damage is from things Harry can't quite control yet and that's exactly why he is here to protect the boy. 

 

It doesn't take him long until he's cleaned and dressed and making his way back into the bathroom to look for that gel he knows Harry uses in his hair. He styles his own into a high quiff, smiling when he sees his blonde because fuck, that was definitely a good choice. He manages to find a new tooth brush and borrows that to brush his teeth and maybe he glances himself in the mirror once more with another kind of smile because he's wearing his own clothes, except for the jumper he decided to borrow from Harry's closest. It's a deep red and form fitting, even though the sleeves are a little long because the other boy's arms are definitely longer than his. 

 

Once he is done with the bathroom though, he leaves the bedroom and walks towards where he thinks the front door is (and it turns out he is right), what he spots on the kitchen counter makes him think his job is just too easy sometimes. Against the white countertop is Harry's new iPhone 5, all perfectly placed without a scratch (Allah bless Gorilla Glass), which means the tracking device Zayn has in his jacket pocket can finally be installed after a month of waiting for the opportunity, but he first has to hope there isn't a password.

 

There isn't.

 

He goes over to his jacket, that is still hanging off one of the chairs where the table is, with Harry's phone in his other hand while the other fishes his pockets for the small device. Luckily, it's one he doesn't have to physically implant into the phone, because as technological as he can be, he just simply doesn't have the time. Instead, the device that Sky has created just has to be plugged into where the charger goes, opening up into the phone's electrical backbone and soon it embeds a code into the hardware that manually tracks Harry's movements as well as texts and calls he makes or receives. Or so he is told, anyway. 

 

It only takes about thirty seconds and once it's done, he pulls out the device, locks the phone, and slips that into his front jean pocket. It does him no good if Harry doesn't have it on him and he can play the cute and suave, 'you left this at home,' bit as he kisses Harry's cheek. He's rolling his eyes at himself now by how romantic he seems to play himself when he really isn't. He wouldn't know what to do on a date or what it's like to hold someone's hand because he's never done any of those things in his life. It just isn't who he is. However, he's finding that he wants to learn how to do these things with Harry, which simply cannot be. Once his mission is done, he is gone. 

 

At least, that's what he tells himself. 

 

It takes about another twenty minutes for him to finally get to work, but when he gets there, the first thing he sees is Harry talking to Louis, who is once again on the counter, but they seem to be arguing about something. It seems to be the first time they have talked since Zayn and him kissed, so of course, he is a little surprised. Neither have seen him yet though, which is why he slips behind the wall near the counter and tilts his head towards them to try and hear what is being said. Though, it's hard to focus when he looks into a reflective surface on the cake stand and sees exactly what Harry is wearing. 

 

Today, he is in something simple, but still amazing in Zayn's opinion. It's once again a white shirt, a regular long sleeved one, but this time Harry has a deep blue blazer over it and both those sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. His jeans are still ridiculously tight and seem to be painted on once more with an onyx color, but today he isn't wearing boots, just white Converse and maybe Zayn drools a little because the younger lad looks so fucking good. His hair is a little loose though, not as much product, and Zayn can see where the curls come into play just over his ears and all Zayn can think of is that he wants to run his fingers through them, but that thought can wait for another time. 

 

"You nearly gave Landon a heart attack with your little stunt a month ago, Harry," he hears Louis hiss. This time, he is sitting on the counter facing Harry, like he had been with Zayn on that first day. His hands are gripping the counter edge so tight that Zayn isn't even sure blood is making it to those white as snow fingers.

 

" _My_ little stunt? What about _yours_? Kissing Demetri like that after I told you how I felt about him. You know how much that kiss meant to me. I trusted you with that."

 

"Oh, come off it, Harry. You wouldn't have done a single thing to fight back for him if I hadn't of stepped on your toes."

 

"And that justifies it? Trying to get me to act out when you _know_ what can become of it?" Harry all but growls back and Zayn can hear it, the irritation and the hurt and if he focuses a little harder, that jealousy is back, also.

 

"It wasn't like I thought you would attack me with a fucking children's game board! Did you think I went out to purposely make you flip your lid? I was trying to help you."

 

"Help me?" Zayn hears his recent lover scoff. "How the hell is that _helping_ me? If anything, it's making everything _harder_. I have already had to replace two blenders, six lightbulbs, seven mugs, and a mixer since he's come to work here." 

 

"What would you have rather me done, Harry? Spill your secret and tell him that it was never going to happen? Because he looked a little heartbroken just at the thought of being pushed away by you. Believe it or not, I'm not out to get you, Harry," Louis sneers and Zayn hasn't heard him this upset since their first run when someone broke his collarbone and left him in pain for a month. 

 

"Well, you definitely weren't fucking helping, now were you?" Harry snaps back as he brings down the top for the blender to mix the contents of someone's smoothie. Zayn takes note on how it isn't even plugged in. Harry is doing it all on his own and his amber eyes catch Louis glancing at the plug, also. 

 

"Did you sleep with him?" His old mate suddenly asks though, and that's bold, even for Louis. 

 

"Wha—"

 

"I asked, ' _did you sleep with him_ ,' Harry?" Louis tries again and his voice is much softer this time. It's so soft it seems to calm Harry down and soon the blender is slowing its pace until it stops completely. "That's what I thought. Tell me you would have eventually made that move if I hadn't of jumped in. Tell me it didn't push you just a little into feeling like you had to claim him so he was off limits."

 

"I didn't—"

 

"Yes, you did," Louis cuts him off once more. "I know you and I know once you have something you want, you leave your mark. So, where is it? Hm? His neck? His shoulder? His wrist? His hip?"

 

"It's his inner thigh, okay?" Harry snips and instantly Zayn's hand slyly drops down to his thigh where his fingers can push slightly into the bruise that Harry's teeth and lips had left the night before. Right smack there against his left inner thigh, just below where his thigh meets his groin. "But that doesn't make him some kind of cattle that is owned by me. He can leave if he wants."

 

"But he won't," Louis whispers softly, reaching a hand to plug the machine back in since Harry seems to be calming down too much for it to work on its own now. "He won't because he's already yours, Harry. Just don't break him. He's already scared and he never gets attached to things, and definitely not people, I would know. Not the Demetri I know, anyways, but what you have? That's special, and don't you dare hu—"

 

"I would never," Harry almost growls again before turning his head away, looking directly into the reflective glass Zayn is watching him from. It makes Zayn's body still and his breath hitch and hold in his throat before seeing Harry slowly glance back to Louis. "Not him. Not Demetri. He's different, Louis. Different from everyone else." 

 

"I know, Harry. I know," the older boy reassures before scooting off the counter and moving to carefully pat Harry's shoulder. He stays there for another moment before soon he is leaving, sleeping out the door, and that makes Harry's shoulders seem to relax once more. That is until—

 

"You can come out now, Demetri," he hears and instantly the raven-haired male is pushing away from the wall and making his way over to the taller lad. A smile crosses his lips when a long arm curls around the small of his back, pulling him in close before there is a kiss being dropped to the corner of the older boy's lips. "Hasn't anyone told you eavesdropping isn't nice nor polite?" He teases, causing Zayn to roll his malt whiskey colored eyes. 

 

"You were talking about _me_ ," Zayn all but pouts before bringing his hands to press against Harry's chest. He knows it's awfully intimate for a work environment such as this one and anyone can see them, but he finds himself leaning in a little more and playing with the lapels of the blazer Harry is wearing. He forgets for a second that his name isn't in fact 'Demetri,' like the lad holding him had just called him, but right now, he wishes he was again and he lets himself selfishly have it. Just for this moment. 

 

"What did you hear?" Harry asks softly in that tone that makes Zayn nearly melt and swoon at the same time. He is about a thousand percent sure that, that voice is made from the same chocolatey and delicious sweets those little desserts Harry makes are also made up of, making them all truly irresistible.

 

"Not much.."

 

"You're lying," the taller boy sighs as he tightens his hold around Zayn's waist to bring him closer. It seems as though Harry is trying to trap him against his chest and Zayn? Well, he just allows it. It's nice, for once, to feel that closeness. It's nice to have someone want him like that. "Do you know what happens to liars, Demetri?" Harry asks and maybe Zayn's breathing stops for a moment as he shakes his head. "Well, you'll find out if you keep it up. So, lets try this again, what did you hear, love?"

 

"I heard Louis say he was trying to help you and something about you 'claiming' me and.." Zayn trails off, biting his lip a little as he looks down. Does he mention or ask about Louis seems to know the one thing Zayn was sent here for? Whatever little ability Harry seems to have that makes him a 'threatening danger' to himself and the ones around him. Ones like Zayn now is. 

 

"And?" Harry prompts, leaning down to nudge his nose against Zayn's neck and down to his collarbone. It makes the older male's eyes flutter shut for a moment as he settles further into Harry's chest. "You're wearing my jumper," he says suddenly and instantly Zayn leans back enough in the other boy's hold to watch his reaction properly. Maybe he had stepped too far and assumed to much for something that could have just been a simple fuck, but then again, Harry had said he wanted him and he had just told Louis that he was basically Harry's. He was _claimed_. 

 

"I just assumed tha—"

 

"I like it," he hears a moment later and relief rushes through him as he feels a kiss be dropped onto his momentarily racing pulse point. He was so sure Harry was about to tell him he had crossed a line. "I like it a lot." And Zayn can tell by the way those lips are dragging a little further down his olive skin and teeth are raking their way through the flesh to make some sort of mark against the hollow of his throat and god, he hopes no one is watching. He isn't sure he could take someone witnessing him completely crumble at just the sound of Harry's voice and a brush of his lips. He is a specialized, secret government, loaded agent and here he is allowing himself to be friendly with his detail once more. "Now, what were you saying?"

 

"T-That Louis knows about you," Zayn hums without thought, but what he does realize is that Harry's sinful mouth is pulling away and his arm is getting a little tighter around the small of his back. 

 

"What do you mean 'knows about me?'" Harry asks, voice low and deep and it makes Zayn's eyes open once more because fuck, that wasn't suppose to happen. Not like that. He was suppose to be more subtle about it and it shows when Harry starts pulling away, leaving Zayn cold. "He doesn't know anything and neither do you."

 

"Wait, no— Harry," he breathes as he moves to rush after the taller lad, reaching for his hands, shoulders, hips, anything to get his attention. "Harry, you don't understand. I get it, I do, and I can he—" He tries until he is shoved back and pressed against one of the hidden corners in the back with the other boy standing over him, effectively boxing him in. 

 

"What do you know, huh? Nothing. Is that why you came here? To get a look at the freakshow?" Harry nearly all but growls and honestly? Zayn's getting a little sick of the doubt that the younger boy seems to have in him. He hates that Harry can't just accept the fact that Zayn wants to be with him even though they shouldn't be for more than one reason. He hates that Harry just can't seem to let the older boy in and that how he gets defensive really scares Zayn, if he is being honest. It scares him in a way that the Clairvoyant doesn't because it's not really about fear at this point. It's about losing and Harry is everything Zayn has to lose.

 

"Why do you do that? Why do you keep waiting for something to come up to use to pull us apart? Are you looking for a reason for us _not_ to work?" He fights back, feeling his fingers curl into his palms as he stares defiantly back up at Harry. He's been in tricky situations before, all his life really, and he can take anything Harry throws at him. Figuratively or _literally_. 

 

"I don't need to look for one. I have it. You just don't know it yet. You wouldn't be able to stick around with it because you _won't_ understand."

 

"Try me," Zayn challenges and he definitely takes into account how Harry stiffens and even stills. 

 

"What?" 

 

"I said ' _try me_ ,' Harry Styles. Tell me what no one else will listen to. Tell me what you're so afraid of. Tell me what this huge fucking secret is because I can handle it. I can take it. I will _understand_ it more than you think," he tries, voice softer this time as he unclenches his hands and brings them up to cup Harry's cheeks. Thumbs rub and soothe around those frown lines as he keeps his eyes on the green set before his, wanting to calm Harry down because he can already see the lights start to flicker. "Just give me a chance."

 

"Can you—"

 

"No," the raven-haired male cuts off before letting his thumbs slip up to caress where those lovely dimples should be. "No, I can't, but I have met many people that have different abilities. Much like you. I mean, I've never met someone with yours, but you aren't alone, Harry, and if you would just let me in, I could help you. I know people that can help you," he continues, but soon he is being kissed against the wall, causing his body to go lax again as his arms come up and curl around the back of Harry's neck. That is until— 

 

"No," Harry whispers, soft, but firm, as he grabs Zayn's hips and pins them to the wall behind him. 

 

"Wha—"

 

"No. I won't have you telling people. If you want to help, it's you and me. No one else. Promise me, Demetri," Harry whispers as he brings his forehead to rest against the older boy's and his hand comes up to hold Zayn's chin up with two fingers. "Promise me."

 

"I promise."

 

\----

 

"I'm thinking you can come back tomorrow. Styles isn't being tracked anymore. It's almost like he's either fallen off their radar or they have found something more interesting," Ward says down the comm as Zayn moves about his small little flat and starts to throw the kettle on the stove with water on it, needing a good drink that didn't resort to liquor. He also needs a smoke, but he's been trying to quit, so that won't be happening. He's got two days on it so far. He's proud, and so is Harry, which is enough for him right now.

 

"I don't think we should let him go that early. He could use our help, Ward," he explains as he grabs a mug from the cabinet above his head and places it down on the counter. It's been two weeks since he and Harry had their conversation about Harry's unique 'traits,' but they haven't talked much more about it. What they have done is fuck and argue and that's enough to send things flying around the flat, scaring not only Harry, but his kitten, Pumpkin, also. However, what they have also done is lounge on the couch, watching old American reruns and stealing kisses in dark corners at work while people were waiting in line for their drinks. So, maybe it isn't all bad, but it is definitely rocky, like everything else they have been trying to do together. 

 

Communication is the hardest though. Zayn watches from a safe distance when Harry seems to lose his shit, whereas Harry likes to get up into the older boy's space when he can't seem to get orders right and loses his temper. It's unbalanced and it's another thing they don't talk all that much about. Usually, they let it slide and file itself in the ' _something for another time in the far distant future_ ' space of their relationship and yeah, it's wildly unhealthy, but Harry makes up for it when he grabs Zayn's hips and pulls him into a kiss the raven-haired lad can't refuse. They make up physically where they can't meet verbally. Whether it's in the way Harry runs his fingers over Zayn's side at night, telling him it's okay to go to bed and that nothing is coming for him or the way Zayn sifts his fingers through the younger boy's hair to let it be known that he isn't going anywhere. They kiss like tomorrow isn't promised (which it isn't in Zayn's life) and they fuck like they can't remember how to do anything else. It's not practical, sure, but it's functional for them and that's all they need right now. 

 

Zayn needs Harry and vice versa. 

 

"We could really use you back at base, getting ready to go into this mission. Skye is good, nearly great, but she isn't you," Ward murmurs and maybe Zayn feels a little smug at the way the older male seems to be _almost_ begging for him to come back. It's close enough that it has Zayn smiling to himself like a conceited arsehole as he waits for his water to boil and whistle. 

 

"I have to say, if I didn't know you any better, I'd think you're flirting with me. I'm flattered, Ward," the shorter boy teases through the microphone before going over to his MacBook Pro to check on Harry's signal. He's still at the bakery, no doubt making more irresistibly cute and delicious sweets that are making Zayn's pants way too tight these days, which means he can breathe because he has May making sure no one threatening goes in or out while he is gone. However, she's only watching through the security cameras that Skye hacked into, so he still has to be ready should anything come up. 

 

"Sorry, Malik, but let's just say you're not my type."

 

"Nor are you mine, so let's get back to business. I'm not leaving until we are sure no one is coming for him."

 

"Getting a little attached, are we?" This time it's Ward's time to tease and it makes Zayn's jaw clench at the thought of someone knowing what can get to him. It took him a long time to fight and make sure no one went after Louis when people found out the relationship between the two of them. He didn't want to think what could become of someone like _Harry_ if anyone tried to get too smart and sadly, Ward was at the top of that list for Zayn. He wouldn't put it passed him. 

 

"I'm about as attached to him as you are to any piece of dry land," Zayn lies, trying to keep his voice steady as his fingertips brush over the bruised just inside his thigh. Harry has yet to let it fade and Zayn can't find himself complaining too much. Not when he's getting off to Harry's mouth and fingers while trying not to make too much noise so Louis doesn't hear them in the living room. They must have been pretty obvious though from the blue-eyed boy's smirk across his lips and Harry's eye roll as he walks past them to grab the crisps. ' _I get it, Harry. He is yours,_ ' Louis always says and Zayn hates how it makes him blush, but he loves the way Harry sounds when he throws his head back and laughs with a soft, _'I know_.'

 

"I'm serious though, Malik. We could have him, tail and corner him right now and all these nonsense could be done with. We could be good," Ward tries again, but Zayn just finds himself looking back to the screen of his computer. There is no way he had can leave Harry. Not now. Not when he has finally gained that trust from the younger boy. 

 

"Give me until after Christmas, at least. Just to make sure they don't try to do anything funny when everyone has their guard down. That's all I ask and then I'll come back," the raven-haired boy promises as he moves back to take the heat off the kettle and pour the water into the mug. 

 

"That's nearly _three_ weeks, Malik. We can't wait that long." 

 

"You either go in without me or you wait until after Christmas. I can't just bail right now," Zayn whispers, stirring the sugar and cream into his mug as he moves to lean the small of his back into the counter. In reality, three weeks really isn't all that long and even then he isn't sure he could just bail on Harry. Not after all the work they have put into them. Not after Harry finally let him in and showed him his world. 

 

Not after sitting on the bedroom floor of Harry's flat, watching him wave his hands around, trying to control the power that resided in his body. After calming the younger boy down when he got frustrated because he lost control and something broke or smashed. They have worked so hard trying to keep Harry mentally balanced and it is crucial that Zayn reminds himself that when he kisses Harry, soft and slow, he can get him to relax enough to try again. When his hands come up to grab and hold the other boy's cheeks to pull him into a kiss, he feels Harry's body start to go lax as he kisses back. It's progress and they are making so much of it right now. He just can't leave. Mission in the field or not.

 

"We aren't negotiating—" 

 

"Ward, I have never asked you for anything. I have been the perfect lap dog when it comes to orders about these things up until last time and I have never gone above my level for special permission, but I need it now. So, you are going to shut up and tell Coulson that I will be back after Christmas and then I will go in with you. That's all you're getting and if you have a problem with that, you can try and come get me yourself," Zayn warns into the phone before hanging up and dropping it into the island in the kitchen. He almost dares Ward to come after him. He dares him to step one foot off that plane and come get him, just so he can show how serious he is about staying. 

 

Zayn isn't going anywhere.

 

\----

 

Meeting Harry after work and going home with him is becoming a regular thing.

 

It is easy at first, letting Harry swoop in behind him while he was cleaning the counters, pressing his lips to the back of his neck, which causes the older lad to sigh in content. It is natural to allow the younger boy to pull him around corners and kiss him before leading him to his car and taking him home with him. It doesn't faze him when he starts seeing Harry's cute little car outside his window, waiting to pick Zayn up for work. The same car that will then take him back to the other male's at the end of the day. It is okay that he is being treated like he is delicate when Zayn is easily more of a threat than Harry is. 

 

At least, he thinks so. 

 

But then Harry starts this new habit, where sometimes he gets nervous and scared and instead of going to work, he locks himself in his flat with Zayn, all tangled up in the sheets as the taller lad kisses his skin over and over again. He laces his fingers through Zayn's and holds their hands above the older boy's head as they kiss and Harry covers him with his body, as if that if enough to save him. As if this feeling they have between them can save them, leave them untouchable, it can't. Zayn knows what a feeling like this can do to someone, especially when it's mutual, and he starts to fear, also. 

 

He fears that Harry will risk himself one day to save him and he fears that this feeling, this moment they have, him and this special boy above him, will disappear one day and leave Zayn all alone. He fears that something _can_ touch them and that it will take Harry away from him before he can even scream and fight to get him back. He fears so much that he starts to have nightmares for the first time since joining S.H.I.E.L.D., leaving him to wake up with a cold sweat covering his body, but Harry is there everytime to curl around his back, using an arm and a leg to swing over his body and pull him back into the taller lad's chest.

 

There, he is most protected, but it doesn't stop inside of Harry's flat. Zayn figures Harry must feel it, too, whatever this feeling is between them, because he stops letting Zayn work at the coffeehouse alone. He isn't allowed to close up alone anymore and he doesn't work until the other boy is also working that day and on the days that Harry doesn't have a shift, he kidnaps Zayn to keep him in his flat, watching movies with him and making him his favorite tea, which Harry has somehow mastered without being told. It's domesticated and it's peaceful when Harry isn't worrying or stressed, causing things to hit the walls when he starts to get frustrated with everything. 

 

However, it's worse when Harry is frustrated with him, Zayn has come to realize. Things fly faster and tension builds and builds until the older lad has to back away and shut his mouth. It isn't that he is scared of Harry though, no, it's that he is worried that one day, those objects will crash into him and Harry will feel as though it is his fault when it's not. The green-eyed boy still can't control things, not when it comes to when he is so emotionally overworked that he can't focus. He can't stop the mirrors from spiderwebbing and he can't stop the telly from creating white noise. He can't help when the kettle spills onto the floor of the kitchen or the painting on the wall crashes down and Zayn understands that. That is something he can work with because at least he knows what is causing it. 

 

But they fight about it. That's probably what bothers Zayn the most because Harry will fight, and then he panics, before finally shuts down and tries to get Zayn to leave again, but he can't. Zayn can't leave because Harry means too much to him. It's that feeling between them again and it's what makes him step forward before kneeling down in front of Harry, showing him that he isn't trying to take control of him. That he isn't trying to be like the boy's power, where it suffocates him and demands certain things from him. He is here to help and he knows Harry feels that when his hand comes down to run his fingers through Zayn's pitch black hair. He feels it in the way that hand leads his head to rest against his lover's thigh and he is coax to calm down, too, because he gets frustrated just as much. 

 

He gets frustrated because he can't help or fix Harry. He doesn't have that kind of speech like Coulson does and he doesn't have the techniques to try and fully understand what Harry is and what he can do. He can't physically take whatever this is inside of the other lad and try to remove it so Harry never has to suffer with it again, but what he can do is be here and help relax the taller lad. He can show that Harry has some control and power when it comes to his life and it comes in the form of Zayn. He can mold and treat the older male however he pleases and he will stay there because of that _feeling_ that is keeping him there. He will take whatever Harry throws at him, literally, and he will stand there and let him yell because he is scared, but at the end of the day, Harry is the one holding him at night, letting his breaths hit the back of Zayn's neck as he holds him tight, like nothing bad really happens. That is why Zayn can take it all because when the sun goes down and Harry's beautiful green eyes close, he knows that the boy still wants him here and that's enough. 

 

It's all he needs. 

 

So, when Harry comes up to him again today, curling an arm around his waist while forming his chest against the older boy's back, he allows this, too. He allows himself permission to lean back into Harry while drying the blender, making sure not to cut himself with the blades at the bottom. He takes certain care as Harry dots kisses along his neck and over the collar of his tank top, and maybe, just _maybe_ , he moans a soft and quiet, "Harry," as said male brings his other hand to hold over Zayn's stomach. The younger boy's fingers lace over the material there and it takes Zayn all of two seconds to turn around and lean up for a kiss that Harry was obviously looking forward to getting. How does he know? Because his head is already ducked and ready for when Zayn's lips pressed against his. 

 

It's cute and rather cheeky, seeing as he is caught under the mistletoe Harry had just set up earlier today in the back room, probably knowing that Zayn would be there to wash up after the Christmas party, but he doesn't mind. In fact, he barely even takes it into account as soon as Harry's much bigger hands as skimming down his back, over his bum where they give a flirty squeeze, before down the back of his thighs to lift him up and place him on the ledge of the counter. With the new height, Zayn makes his arms to curl around the taller boy's neck, after placing the blender and rag down, of course, as his thighs come to rest around Harry's waist with his ankles hook together behind the boy. 

 

"Louis and Landon just left," Harry whispers before swopping in for another kiss. "As well as the rest of the staff and Gemma," Harry rambles and oh, Gemma. Tonight had been the first night Zayn had met Harry's sister. The rather beautiful, blonde, and twenty-five year old girl, who had no problem teasing her younger brother in front of everyone. She was playful and sweet, much like her brother, and Zayn had been so nervous to meet her. However, he hadn't even had time to introduce himself before she had come into the Christmas party with two gifts and a cheery, ' _one for my baby brother and one for his beautiful boyfriend_.' He isn't sure when he made it to that level, but he definitely isn't complaining after seeing Harry blush and move to curl an arm around his waist so he could lean in to kiss his cheek.

 

"Yeah.. Gemma, she's sweet," he hums in response as his head dropped back against the wall to rest, allowing Harry's lips to glide further down his skin. The other lad's hands move to hold the top of Zayn's upper thighs, pushing them apart so he could squeeze in closer, completely unashamed as his teeth nipped at Zayn's collarbone. 

 

"The sweetest," Harry mumbles back, clearly not interested in keeping up with the conversation as his hands slide up to start undoing Zayn's belt. 

 

"And she thinks I'm your boyfriend."

 

"I'm sorry, are we really going to talk about my sister right now while I'm trying to get my mouth around your cock?" Harry asks a moment later, pulling away from the older boy just enough for Zayn to witness how blown out and dilated the other boy's eyes are. There is barely any green in the ring around the pupil. His lips are still a little swollen from their earlier snog in the bathroom and his cheeks are rosy from all the alcohol they had consumed together, making him look about a thousand times more beautiful as Zayn groans and uses his ankles behind Harry to pull him back into his body. 

 

"Well, it's not going to suck itself, so get to it," Zayn smirks and easily, Harry is back to being game and the older boy's pants are soon down around his thighs as well as his boxers as Harry bends over just enough to lick up the length of his cock and over the slit. All while keeping his eyes firmly on Zayn and if he hadn't been so use to it, he could have come right there. "No teasing tonight. Missed you all day." 

 

"You had me this morning," Harry replies causally before adding a smug, " _twice_." 

 

"You know it's because of that thing you do with your tongue," Zayn murmurs, trying to sound annoyed, but the tone soon dies out when there is a warm heat around the head of his cock and he is gone. His hand comes down to slot his fingers through Harry's messy curls, no doubt from running around like a madman after drinking and doing stupid shit all night and maybe it is also from how Zayn grabbed his hair in the bathroom earlier as he was pressed against the wall. "Oh fuck," he swears as his length starts to disappear inside of Harry's mouth and the room inside is getting tighter and tighter, causing him to breathe a little heavier. God, Harry is too much sometimes. In the beginning, Harry had been terrible at this, with good reason, and they stayed away from it, but now, that tongue is working against him again, swirling in ways in shouldn't and it has Zayn tensing up and leaning his head back further against the wall. "Harry, Harry, Har—" His desperate chanting stops when Harry is suddenly pulling off and licking his lips, right before Zayn was about to finish. "What the fuck?"

 

"Don't think I'm done with you, Malikov. Not even close," Harry warns with his famous knowing smirk before reaching up to grab Zayn's hips, pulling them down until the shorter male is forced off the counter. It takes half a second before Harry is flipping the boy over and pushing him back against the counter as his hands go to nearly rip of Zayn's shirt with a mutter of, "stupid fucking clothing." If Zayn wasn't so dazed, he would laugh. However, he is too preoccupied with grabbing onto the counter once his shirt is off and focusing on how Harry's lips press and drag over and down his spine, making him drop his head and close his eyes. 

 

His skin feels like it is burning where Harry presses his fingers into his hips, keeping him still, and he isn't even sure he is breathing properly, seeing as his chest is pressed flat against the counter below him, as Harry pulls his pants further down. Luckily, it isn't too cold in the room, but as the younger lad seems to walk away for a moment, Zayn swears he feels a shiver run through him as he turns his head over his shoulder with furrowed eyebrows. As his amber eyes notice Harry though, they take in the span of his shoulders, how broad and toned they are, before wondering when exactly he got naked. Then again, he had been a little too preoccupied to really take notice and pay attention to something like that. 

 

"Harry," he whines softly as he leans his head down, letting the cool surface take some of the hear from his flushed cheeks. His lashes dance across the tops of his cheeks as he blinks from time to time, watching the younger lad and trying to figure out what the hell he is doing before soon, Harry is coming back with a foiled packet and a small tube of sorts, making him chuckle just a little. "Please tell me you haven't been carrying that on you all day," he breathes, but then his eyes are falling shut as Harry comes over snd kisses the back of his neck. 

 

"I knew I wouldn't make it home to have you when getting dressed this morning, so I thought ahead. Are you going to complain?" He asks, but Zayn is quick to shake his head before gasp as a slightly cold finger touches his rim. It's not very well slicked, probably because the younger lad rushed, but it isn't unbearable as he arches his back a little more to push his arse out towards Harry more. Harry, who would laughs under his breath and brings his hand to cup and hold Zayn's to keep him in place. "Don't move, baby," he hums as he leans down to kiss across the older lad's shoulders before latching his teeth into the skin behind Zayn's right shoulder. He uses that leverage to suck a mark so raw and bright that it has the other lad panting as one, then two, more fingers press inside him. 

 

Everything from there is all moans and hitched breaths. Harry covers and coats his cock before holding Zayn's cheeks apart to help him slide in with little resistance and Zayn grabs around the ledge of the countertop to keep him from bruising himself as the taller lad starts to push into him. At first, he thinks he doesn't need it, but then pushing becomes pounding and Zayn feels like the oxygen in his lungs is being forced out with everything slam of Harry's hips against his own. His fingers are turning white from holding on and his skin feels like it's been set aflame once more as he breathes heavier and heavier, matching in time with Harry's against the side of his neck. 

 

"Look so good like this, babe," the boy murmurs against his skin before pressing closer to his pulse point and kissing there, too. That's when the Christmas lights all around them start to flicker and objects start to slide off their respective places and onto the floor where the clank or shatter. Everytime Harry's body meets his own again, something else in the room is going off, mixers, blenders, coffee machines, but it doesn't even register to Zayn because soon there are long fingers around his cock, pumping him in time with Harry's movements (who is quickly becoming an expert when it comes to fucking boys). It doesn't take long before his hand is reaching back to hold the back of Harry's head, keeping his face pressed against his neck as he closing his eyes and— 

 

"Harry!" He nearly screams when he finally comes, sputtering onto the cabinets below, his lower stomach, and Harry's fingers and he can tell the moment Harry finishes, also, because soon, the lights are out. There's not just out in the decorating room, though. No, the entire coffeehouse is pitch black and the lights outside are gone, also. It's completely dark and well, that's never happened before. "Did you just cause a blackout?" Zayn asks when he catches his breath a little, but he has moved. Neither of them have. In fact, Harry only moves to slide his hands around Zayn's hips, wrapping them around his waist in a way that as the older male scrunching up his nose, because he would love to go wash up, but he doesn't move because he also fancies the way Harry is cuddly after sex and likes to hold him. It makes him feel like he is more than just a fuck to get Harry's rocks off. 

 

"I.. I think so? I'm not sure," Harry huffs out as he turns his head to nuzzle his nose into Zayn's hair, which is messy and almost limp against his head. It doesn't help that his fringe is sweaty and plastered to his forehead from the random heat and sweat that came from their little adventure. Zayn's hand finally drops down from the back of Harry's head a moment later though, just so it can come to rest on top of where the boy's hands are lacing their fingers on his stomach. His other hand holds him up and somewhere, if he really pays attention hard enough, he had feel Harry sliding out from between his arse cheeks. 

 

"I think you just killed the Christmas spirit."

 

"No, I just moved it to rest somewhere else."

 

"I can't tell if that means I was great or terrible," Zayn chuckles softly before shaking his head and dropping it down to try and catch his breath. It's still a little ragged and uneven, but he can feel Harry's chest against his back and he knows the younger male isn't doing much better. 

 

"Magnificent, Demetri," the boy replies softly and that? That makes Zayn squeeze his eyes shut because he doesn't want to be 'Demetri' this time. No, he wants to be 'Zayn' and he wants Harry to see him as he is because Harry will get attached to this persona and Zayn will have to watch him share that _feeling_ with someone that isn't really him. Someone probably is a real person somewhere else, but they aren't here, and Zayn can't handle that this time. He can't just shake off the fake name like he does every other time because it isn't real if Zayn isn't himself. He can't feel that feeling and share it if he isn't being himself. 

 

"Zayn," he finds himself whispering as he clutches Harry's hand desperately, hoping he doesn't run because that would hurt more than him continuing to lie. It's gotten to far and he's given too much of himself to a boy that doesn't even know where he came from. They don't talk about things like that, about pasts and histories. They talk about the future and how Harry wants to go to uni, but doesn't want to abandon his Nana's coffeehouse to someone outside the family. They talk about how Harry wants to adopt one day and he wants to give a kid a home and a family who doesn't have one and they talk about how he wants to grow a garden on his balcony with all sorts of flowers so he can give them to homeless people. Things that make Harry smile and stop worrying about the present for just a moment. Things that make Zayn fall a little more into this _feeling_ with Harry. "My name is Zayn. Zayn Javadd Malik." 

 

"Zayn," Harry repeats quietly and Zayn swears that time stand still. That time freezes and he isn't even sure he is breathing as he waits. He waits for Harry to let go and tell him to get out. He waits for the lad to scream and shout for lying and for keeping something like this from him. He waits for the hurt to sink into his chest as he feels himself start to build those walls back up around it because this is all he has. This is the most he has ever felt for someone. This is all he ever wants to feel again, with Harry, and if he walks away, that's it. Zayn's done for and he will go back to the Bus and let his heart break into a million pieces before picking himself back up and shoving the memories of this beautiful boy to the back of his head, where he never has to remember them again. "I guess it doesn't really matter because either way, I'm already in love with you." And just like that, their _feeling_ has a name, love. Harry loves him and he is pulling Zayn up and turning him before cupping his cheek with his clean hand. 

 

_Love._

 

A hand that was pulling him into a deeper kiss with a lot more of that _feeling_ inside it, pushing itself into Zayn's system. So, of course he can't help himself when he holds Harry's cheek as well and parts his lips to allow the other boy's tongue just enough room to slide in and get a taste before retreating. It's slow and he feels himself start to really come down from the sex high as he lets Harry do as he pleases and takes what he wants because Zayn is all Harry's and he wants Harry to see that instead of the lie he has been living. He wants Harry to know that all of this hasn't been for nothing and that it means something to him. He wants Harry to understand that— 

 

"I love you, too."

 

\----

 

There is soil all over the floor of the balcony and Pumpkin looks like she is entirely too uncomfortable with the idea of dirt being so close to her pure white paws as she sits perfectly straight by the sliding glass door. Not that Zayn blames her because it is a mess and it will take forever to clean up, but it is will worth it. Every now and then though she will poke her head out to smell the magenta with white highlights Dutch amaryllis, nudging her little pink nose against the petal before pulling back as Harry drops more soil onto the ground and their bare feet. 

 

"I think you are getting more on us than you are in the planter, Harry," he groans a little as he brings the back of his burgundy glove-covered hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead before looking down at the planter below him. It's ceramic, nice and tiled in an artistic way that Harry asked Zayn to do (a mosaic of sorts, if you will), and it's fitted to hang over the side of the balcony perfectly. They had gone to Homebase just after breakfast to get the soil, the flowers, and the planter to put them all in as well as going over to Hobbycraft to get all the hard materials to make the design on the planter. It has bright greens and blues, even a few pinks and yellows added in since Harry wanted a variety, and Zayn is honestly a little impressed with how it came out. 

 

Before they had messed with the planter though, they had set up Harry's new little pond fountain where he could add a lotus, because apparently, it wouldn't be a garden without it, but Zayn is under the impression that the boy only wanted it so he could put fish in it. Fish that Pumpkin had been eyeing for a while on the counter while they were still in the bags, once they were put into the water in the pond, she lost sight of them and got distracted by the petals on the flower closest to her. The pond is cute though, Zayn figures, with it's fairy figures at the top and a small little waterfall through the middle. Harry says it's supposing to be 'calming,' so Zayn lets it go because whatever gets his lover to relax is enough for him and maybe he is a little in love with the smile the younger boy gives when Zayn lets him have it. 

 

"Well, the flowers need some dirt there, too, just in case they fall out," Harry huffs, like it actually makes sense, but both him and Pumpkin share a look that they don't believe it for a second. She shows it by turning up her nose and he displays it as a simple roll of his amber eyes. 

 

"Yeah, alright. Just in case we get suicidal flowers," the older lad mumbles before dropping his hand once more to grab the hot pink and white oriental lily to place into the edge of the planter, right next to the purple atropa belladonna. They are already bloomed, just need to be planted, because Harry was way too impatient to plant their own seeds and wait for them to grow, which is fine by Zayn because this way they can see how the flower colors mix together in the planter before they finishing planting. 

 

"I think I want this one to go in the middle," the curly-haired boy hums as he holds Zayn's original white orchid that they have decided to add in. Zayn doesn't want it to die at his flat (that may or may not be his within the next week) and Harry thinks it would be good for the other flowers to grow with their new love. At least, that is what Zayn gets out of it. He isn't entirely too sure what exactly his boyfriend was going on about, but it seemed rather beautiful at the time as his caramel-colored eyes watched Harry's plush and pink lips. Which he must be doing again since— "Zayn, are you even listening to me?" He hears being asked of him a moment later, making his eyes snap up to watch Harry once more.

 

Zayn. 

 

Harry has been calling him 'Zayn' a lot, making a point to say it every couple minutes, and it makes the older lad beam with happiness because that's him. That's the real him and he has Harry while being himself. He didn't loose the boy that is now rolling his eyes at him and curling an arm around his waist to pull him closer while his other hand holds the bottom of the white orchid in the palm of his rather large hand. He gets to keep the male that is leaning down to kiss him just as Zayn had been thinking about moments ago and that makes him bring his hands up to grab Harry's cheeks to keep the kiss going, even though it is getting soil on those wonderful dimples. He lets his eyes fall shut and his lips move against the taller lad's as he starts to smile himself because it's just nice, okay? It's nice to feel wanted and loved like this. 

 

"Now that I have your attention," Harry murmurs against Zayn's lips as he continues to press some small pecks over them again and again before finally pulling away to lean back and nod towards the flower. "What do you think? Middle or at the end?" He asks, but his arm goes to bring Zayn closer once more so that the shorter lad's side is pressed against Harry's chest as Harry brings his head to rest his cheek against the top of those raven-colored stained locks. 

 

"In the middle is good," Zayn responds softly, but he is a little distracted by the way Harry's hand slides to rub up and down his opposite side. It almost makes him want to purr under the affection because it's so domestic and it's so loving, the way Harry holds him like he is something delicate and fragile. Like Zayn doesn't know how to hold the gun that is stashed in his inner coat pocket or that he can't defend himself if anyone were to come up against him. Which, let him be the first to tell anyone that he very well can. He can hold his own quite well, but he likes that Harry seems to want to be the protector. Like he is worried that something could grab Zayn and take him away and that Harry can't bare to think about such things. 

 

"Just as I was thinking," the younger male says before carefully dropping the orchid into the soil and using that hand, that is covered in cerulean-colored glove, to move to rub more soil over the root of the plant. He then finishes putting the other flowers in as Zayn shifts to curl his arms around the taller boy, keeping him close as he listens to his heartbeat through Harry's chest. It's steady and healthy, which of course makes him feel a thousand times better because nothing can touch his lover. Nothing can touch them. 

 

After the soil is set in and pounded down to keep the flowers in place, Zayn pulls away from Harry long enough to reach for the water can on the ground so he is allowed to sprinkle the liquid over the plants. He does just enough to soak the soil so the flowers don't dry out before he places it back down on the ground near the corner of the balcony, completely ready for when it will be needed again. Pumpkin seems to be very unfond of that idea, also, though as she flicks her tail in an annoyed way and watches Zayn's hand as though that water might just sprinkle onto her. He isn't that mean, but Harry seems to read both their minds and is soon laughing at his kitten. Laughing that turns into kissing with Harry's hands interlinked against the small of Zayn's back after pulling off their gloves. 

 

"We're here!" He suddenly hears, making him pull away and lean back in Harry's hold enough to see through the opening of the sliding door. There, he witnesses a very cheeky Louis coming in with bags of white in one hand (probably Chinese takeout) and a boy in the other. A boy with styled up hair and scruff lining his jaw in a shade a couple lighter than Louis' own. What surprises Zayn more though, is the little blonde girl with blue eyes that comes in next. She has a suicide roll atop her head and a cute red bandana tied around, like a headband, pinned to stay in place with bobbypins. "And we brought food."

 

"Who's 'we?'" Harry question as he leans over Zayn as well, raising his eyebrows when seeing the strangers, but he doesn't seem put off. Harry seems to be just like Zayn in the fact that friends of Louis' are friends of his. 

 

"You didn't tell them we were coming?" The new lad with brown eyes asks while squeezing Louis' hand a little. Not in a way that makes Zayn concerned as he finally pulls away from Harry and makes his way inside, making sure to wipe his dirty bare feet on the mat outside first so he doesn't track it into the flat. "What if they didn't want us here?"

 

"Harold—"

 

"Still not his name."

 

"—Doesn't mind that you're here. He loves everyone," Louis continues, completely ignoring how Zayn cut in and corrected the older lad about something he really doesn't seem to be wanting to drop. Not that Zayn can blame him, 'old habits dying hard' or whatever, but he does think it's funny for a moment that he has picked up on their little tease between each other and no one seems uncomfortable with it.

 

"It's no problem, I'm sure. Besides, _Harry_ has been dying to have someone taste his new cookies he just took out of the oven an hour ago and you look like just the girl for the job," Zayn explains to the little girl before as he walks towards the new guy, offering his now clean hand to the man. "I'm Demetri, and of course, the other one is Harry," he hums kindly and he smiles when the man takes his hand to shake it back. Just as Harry comes up behind Zayn and curls his arms around his waist while resting his chin on the older boy's shoulder. It's Harry's favorite position while they are standing. 

 

"I'm Liam and this is Rylee, my daughter," the man, Liam, introduces and of course Louis would date someone that has a child, never seeming to get enough of them, but this one has a certain charm. One that gets the gears in Zayn's head moving as he vaguely hears Harry and Liam exchange names and greetings. However, what catches him off guard is the little girl furrowing her eyebrows and looking at him with a tilted head. 

 

"You're lying," she whispers to him, though no one else hears, and it makes him stop. What had she just said? How would she know? She is four, five at best, and she is calling him out on his shit. Not that it really matters though because soon there is a kiss to his cheek and the hands on his stomach are moving to grab his hips and lead him towards the table. He is placed on a chair, surprisingly the one that is next to the little girl, who is still looking at him like he is something foreign. He doesn't exactly blame her. 

 

"Let's eat. I'm starving. Liam got out late from the firehouse and that made us late getting to Rylee on time and then he wouldn't let me eat while driving.." Louis rambles as he starts pulling out white and red boxes with Chinese characters on the sides. When they are opened, steam rises from each and every one of them as Harry brings out plates and silverware for everyone. There's orange peel chicken, cashew chicken, royal beef, Mongolian beef, chow mein, egg rolls, cream cheese wontons, boxes of white, brown, and fried rice, as well as fortune cookies for everyone. 

 

"Jesus, you guys really went all out. What's the occasion?" Zayn asks as his plate is given to him and Harry is then sliding into the seat next to him while grabbing Zayn's thigh to hold and squeeze for a soft moment. It's small, but not uncommon. Harry does it all the time. He does it to show that he is there or that Zayn is okay and he must look nervous, because Harry knows his name when not even _Louis_ does, but when he looks back at his boyfriend, he feels okay again and nods his head to silently say as much. 

 

"Louis just really couldn't make up his mind. He went from wanting nothing to wanting everything and in the end, we just got all his favorites and what he said you two would eat," Liam explains as he grabs Rylee's plate and starts dishing out some chicken and beef before adding a little fried rice to the side. It's more than Zayn thinks a little girl can eat, but once the plate is in front or her, she practically devours it. 

 

"If Liam hadn't of taken so long to get into the bloody car—"

 

"If you had just made time to eat more for breakfast than Landon's snacks—"

 

"I ate more—"

 

"No, you didn't," Rylee accuses, which makes Liam raise his eyebrows with a smug smirk at Louis, who seems to be having a mental fit as he slumps down in his chair and huffs. 

 

"That is so not fair," he nearly pouts as Rylee kicks her legs under the table and eats a piece of chicken, humming at the delicious taste. She doesn't even really pay attention to how Louis is rolling his eyes at Liam or taking glances at her. She's too busy munching on her lunch and staring intently at Zayn, which makes his eyebrows narrow together as he looks right back at her. It's creepy, almost as if she is looking into the pure soul inside him, but she doesn't seem intimidating, just curious. Far more curious than a four or five year old should be. 

 

"You shouldn't be lying in the first place, Lou. Bad habits for Landon and Rylee," Liam points out as he finishes putting food on his own plate, ignoring how Rylee is now tilting her head at Zayn once again, probably trying to figure out all his dark little secrets, but she isn't getting very far. He can tell by the way her little cute nose scrunches up high and how her eyebrows furrow together in the center of her forehead. It seems to be a lot of work, but he gives nothing away as the conversation around the continues. 

 

"Isn't that what sassy pranksters do, though? Lie? It's nothing harmful. Just fun," Harry helps out, sending a smile to Louis, which gives him a little more of his spirit back as he sits up straight again and nods. 

 

"Yes, exactly, and she takes the fun out of it, Li. You know I would never lie about anything serious," the blue-eyed man pouts cutely and even bats his lashes, something that has gotten him and Zayn out of trouble so many times Zayn couldn't even count them all on his fingers. Louis is good at that, talking his way out of anything, and he uses his mischievous charm to get him out of everything. Zayn has yet to meet someone that hasn't fallen for it. Though, his mind is brought back to Rylee and now he is the one tilting his head to the side in question as he thinks everything over. 

 

"You're special," he whispers to her, watching her little eyebrows relax for a moment as she nods and then looks Zayn directly in the eyes. Her blue ones are so much sharper and brighter than Louis. Almost unnatural. In fact, they probably are and the way the sun hits them makes him realizes he has never seen eyes so clear like this before. They are pure and balanced. 

 

"Are you special?" She asks quietly, holding her fork in the air as she sways it a little, probably a habit of hers that she doesn't even know she has. Like when Harry sticks his tongue out everytime he goes to eat or drink something or when Zayn subconsciously licks over his lips when seeing Harry start to either get dressed for work or undressed for bed. It's habit. Instinctive. It just happens. 

 

"No, I'm not, but I take care of the special." 

 

"Like a superhero?" She questions, but this time her voice is higher and Zayn can see the way her eyes widen with innocent excitement. It reminds him that this is in fact a child and not someone like Harry or him that truly understand the deeps of things like this. She doesn't seem to understand that there are more like her or maybe she thinks it's more common than it really is. He isn't entirely sure, but he keeps it simple for the sake of the little girl. 

 

"I'm a superhero for the true superheroes like you and Harry," he hums back in response before finally taking a bite of his food that Harry seems to have perfectly lay out on his plate. He's beginning to notice just how well the younger lad knows him and how he just does things without being asked. It's sweet, rather endearing, but he wonders what that will do to Harry when Zayn leaves. When he finishes out his job here and goes back to the Bus. 

 

"Daddy says that I have to be careful because other people don't understand," she says with such a soft and timid voice. It almost breaks Zayn's heart because she is so young and he is figuring out that she does understand that she is an outcast. That there is something about her that sets her aside from the other kids and he knows what that is like to some extent. He knows what it is like to be excluded because you are different. It was his hair, his skin tone, and his religion that set him apart from the other kids and Rylee has to deal with this. She has to deal with knowing that there is something she has and understands that no one else will. Just like Zayn had to. Just like Harry had to.

 

"Well, lucky you, everyone here understands," he promises and he doesn't see how Liam looks over to the fondly under he is sitting back in his chair and Liam is nodding his head in what looks like to be appreciation for their conversation. To which Zayn only smiles and nods his head back because that is his job. He takes care of those that feel like they have no place. He gives them a place, a community, and helps them grow. Takes care of them and he must be doing a good job if the hand on his upper thigh is anything to go by. If the way Harry leans over to kiss the back of his ear and whisper a soft, ' _I love you,'_ is reason enough to believe that. 

 

\----

 

Zayn lays there on Harry's bed on his back, left arm curled under his head as the other rests across his toned stomach. He's in nothing, just has the sheer white sheet covering his manly bits as his legs and torso are exposed to the air coming in through the window. Harry is curled up across the bed, back towards the raven-haired lad, and Zayn can't help but lets his eyes roam over the span on the boy's back. His crystal amber eyes glance at the crease between his boyfriend's shoulder blades that dips down and runs over where his spine his. He can see the concave section over the top of Harry's hip that leads to where that 'v' of muscles and happy trail of hair end. The sheet is just barely covering the boy's arse, leaving next to nothing to the imagination, but Zayn takes it all in as it is because he is going to miss this. 

 

He is going to miss waking up next to Harry, letting the overgrown child pull him into his chest like his favorite teddy bear and kiss him like it was the first time. He will miss how Harry snores against his pillow or the way he sometimes kicks his leg when his body spasms in his sleep. He will miss hiding under the sheets and clawing at the taller lad's back as he pushes into him nice and steady, making Zayn's breath hitch because of the feeling. Because of the intimacy. The intimacy he has never had with anyone else before and he doesn't plan to. The intimacy he wishes could last forever, but his reality sets in once more when his phone lights up on the side table and his leader's name flashes across the screen. 

 

With a swing of his legs, they are over the edge of the bed as Zayn's hand comes up to run through his tousled hair, making it even more messy as he reaches with his other hand to grab his iPhone. He drops his hand from his head to grab his boxers from the floor and slipped them on before he starts to make his way out of _their_ room and towards the balcony. He lets his eyes glance over the flowers he and Harry put in just days before, before he is looking up towards the sky that is just starting to brighten up with the morning sun. It's not bright enough for him to be awake, he thinks, but then his eyes are looking down at his phone with the name 'Coulson' printed on the screen and he shakes his head at himself. He doesn't get the courtesy of sleeping in. He never really has, and with that thought in mind, he slides the unlock bar on his phone and brings it up to his ear.

 

"Malik," he answers. 

 

"We can't stall any longer. The Clairvoyant is set to move soon," he hears and immediately his heart sinks into his chest as he grabs his pack of smokes and lighter from just inside the living room. It's sitting on the mantel above the fake fireplace. Harry continuously makes sure they are there so when Zayn feels suffocated and needs to breathe, he has his vice within grasp without having to mix with people to find them. It's convenient, he won't lie, and it makes life a little easier. 

 

"Coulson, I can't—"

 

"You don't have a choice. We need you. This was suppose to be a job and it's done now. You need to come in," his leader continues as Zayn places the cigarette between his lips and wastes no time lighting it up. He can feel his fingers twitching and shaking as he places the pack and lighter down atop the balcony ledge. That is before his fingers go to curl around the edge to somewhat steady him so his knees don't give out because they feel like jelly right now. He can feel everything collapsing around him. 

 

"Agent Coulson, if you would just listen—" 

 

"Zayn, I've been listening. I know what you have May and Skye doing and I have heard what you and Ward have talked about, but it's time to come back. You can't stay forever and he could never know the truth. Not if you want to keep him in this 'safe world' you are building for him. You have to let him go," Coulson says and that's it. That's when the tears start forming and his strength starts to give because up until this point, he has been telling himself he doesn't really have to go. He's been living in a fantasy where he gets to keep Harry and stay working at the coffeeshop when he can't. He can't and it burns his very soul as he fights to stay standing. 

 

"I can't leave him, Coulson. He trusts me. I'm the first one he has really let in. I told him he could trust me and that I could help. I promised him that I would never leave. I can't do this," Zayn begs as he drops down into a squat with his fag between his fingers as they curl around the metal spindle of the balcony. The salt water tears skim down his flushed cheeks as he listens to Agent Coulson list all the reasons it would never work and why Harry wouldn't be happy with a relationship such as theirs and he isn't being mean, not by a long shot. No, he is being realistic because that's how to talk Zayn down, but this time it isn't working. This time he is panicking more and he isn't sure he can even breathe anymore. 

 

"It's time to come home, Zayn," he hears again and that rips a sob from his body as he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the cold metal. He can feel his heart breaking a million ways as he lets the words repeat in his head over and over. 

 

"I love him, Coulson. I love him.."

 

"Come home." 

 

It takes Zayn one hang up of his phone to realize what is now his new mission. Five breaths to calm himself down enough to breathe semi-evenly, so he doesn't pass out on the balcony. Two seconds to push himself back up to stand where he doesn't look as broken as he did moments ago. Four more seconds to wipe his tears to prove to himself that he isn't falling apart and losing everything he has ever wanted and three more cigarettes to pick himself up officially and dust off those old walls because it's time to rebuild them and shove them back up. 

 

The moment he is done with his final cancer stick, he dumps it into the ashtray Harry bought for him, but he hardly looks at it as he sets himself back into the mind frame he should have been in this entire time. He wastes no time getting back into _Harry's_ room, grabbing his clothes to throw on over his body. He makes sure that they are all his before he's going to get his boots on as well as his coat and by the time he is looking back at the room is about the time Harry starts to roll over to grab for him, but he isn't there. He watches as the boy's nose crinkles up in confusion and a huff leaves his slightly parted lips, but that is all he sees before he is making his way out of the room and down the hall to the front door.

 

It's there that he gets his keys out and twists and pulls until Harry's flat key comes off and is placed onto the counter next to the landline. He stares at it long and hard enough he realizes that this is it. He is going to lock that door and walk out without a way back in. He is going to run away because he can't face Harry and tell him that none of it was suppose to be real. How this was only suppose to be a job should the lad lose too much control or the Clairvoyant tried to take him into their custody. He can't own up to the fact that he fell for someone that was only suppose to be his detail until he was deemed safe. So, he locks that door and he steps out while shutting it and he walks for the lift to bring him down into the lobby because he is an agent before anything and agents don't do 'goodbyes.' They go in, get their job done, and get out. 

 

So, he gets out. 

 

He gets out and he spends the next four days trying to avoid Harry as much as he possibly can. He ignores the calls for him and he brushes off the green-eyed boy's touch as though he has been burned. He doesn't take his breaks unless Harry is extremely busy, allowing him to smoke another fag. His number is rising at alarming levels because of this new stress and he isn't sure he can completely control his addiction for the tobacco infused substance anymore. In fact, he can't control anything at the moment, but he isn't the only one. 

 

Everytime Zayn ignores Harry or everytime he doesn't give him something as easy as a glance, something is flying across the room and breaking against a wall in the back. Everytime the boy tries to get his attention and fails, someone is getting yelled at to clean something up. The lights start acting up and a mirror in the back bathroom breaks and shatters across the floor when Zayn won't let Harry take him home after work. The glass that covers the pastries cracks in the corner and one of the coffee machines loses its shit along the counter, all because Zayn won't allow himself to be within ten feet of the taller lad and honestly? It crushes. 

 

Zayn wants nothing more than to allow Harry to pull him into his chest and kiss him like they have been doing for the last month or so. He wants to be grabbed and held while taking orders and he wants the boy to make cheeky comments or playfully grab his bum before kissing the back of his shoulder. He wants their customers to tell him how cute he and Harry are and how they wish them the best because they deserve each other. He wants to fuck against the counters in the decorating room and he wants to be devoured like Harry can't live without him, but he can't. He can't allowed Harry close because he is leaving tomorrow for good. Never to see the curly-haired boy again. 

 

Which is probably why he gets a little weak when he is wiping down one of the last tables in the coffeehouse, allowing himself to go slow because he isn't ready to leave yet, when Harry comes up behind him and grabs his hips so he can't move. Not that he really struggles, like he has been these last few days. No, this time he lets Harry turn him, almost encourages it, and when his amber eyes meet those green ones, he can see the anger and hurt in them, but he can also see the desperate and needy love and it makes the older lad's heart clench in his chest. It makes his body start to bend and mold because he doesn't know how to resist when Harry forces them flush together, making the shorter lad have to tilt his head back a little in order to see Harry. 

 

"What the fuck has been going on, Zayn?" The lad hisses, but there's next to no venom in his tone. It's pure confusion, maybe some lingering doubt that has come back since Zayn has been distancing himself. The wrinkles of Harry's eyebrows furrowing together tells him that the boy is trying to figure him out just by looking at him, much like Rylee had tried to do when Liam and Louis came over for lunch, but he's getting nothing. Zayn knows this. He knows because he is an expert at schooling his emotions and he will be damned if he lets that fail him when he most needs it. 

 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry," he replies smoothly, but Harry isn't buying it. It's painfully obvious in the other male's facial expression. Deep frown lines, crinkled nose, and narrowed eyes. All classic signs and the worst part is, it's warranted. Harry has every right to be upset, but it just means that he will get more frustrated because Zayn won't give him the truth. He refuses to cross that line and really, he just needs to make it the night and he will be fine. That is all he need, one more night, but here Harry is, pressing closer so that the small of the raven-haired boy's back is pressed against the ledge of the table he was just busting. 

 

"Don't give me that bullshit. You know exactly what you are doing and I don't understand. Have I done something wrong? Did I push too hard? Was I too much?" Harry asks and it hurts because this boy has gone from trying to find every reason to keep him and Zayn apart to trying to make everything perfect between them so they can't be separated. If only Harry knew that they were doomed from the beginning. They were never suppose to happen, so they have no chance at a future. That Zayn doesn't get a say in whether or not he wants to stay with Harry, even though he does. He wants for it. 

 

"Believe it or not, but not everything is about you, Harry."

 

"Then what the fuck is it because I am losing my mind," the boy continues and it hurts to hear it. It hurts to know that he is the one making Harry so frustrated and it hurts to see the glass around them start to crack, but not break. Not yet anyways, but it's enough to make him realize that he is the make or break point in Harry's abilities. He is the reason the taller lad can either semi-control his power or lose it entirely and not know how to fix it. Zayn is that defining point and he has to take that into account when he finally glances up to allow himself to look into those green eyes that are barely holding back tears. "What happened?" Harry asks, voice much softer now as his grip loosens. "What happened to us? I thought we were working. I thought we were—" He is stopped. 

 

He is stopped because Zayn reaches a hand up to cup Harry's cheek, bringing him into the kiss he has been dying for all week, barely being able to breathe without it. It's slow, definitely PG enough for the work environment, and Zayn can feel the other lad press closer and slide his hands around his waist until those long fingers he has become familiar with lace and lock behind the small of his back. There are no words as Harry leans further down to keep their lips together when Zayn tries to pull away because this hurts, too. Possibly more than hearing the pain in Harry's voice, but he can't stop himself. He can't stop his lips moving against the younger lad's and he can't stop the tears that start to slide down his cheeks because he doesn't want to. He thrives off Harry and to have that be taken away from him in just a few short hours kills. 

 

So, he lets himself have tonight when Harry coaxes him into coming back home with him and they waste no time pulling off each other's clothes to grab for skin that they know so well. They waste no time kissing over the same itches of flesh they do everytime and Zayn doesn't stop Harry when he goes for that mark on his inner thigh, brightening it up once more because Zayn belongs to this man. Every fibre of his being is Harry's and he knows that's exactly the point that the curly-haired boy is trying to get across. He is trying to prove something and Zayn doesn't want it any other way. He is happy to be claimed by this boy and would allow him to do whatever he wanted to his body if it meant Harry never stopped touching him. 

 

However, as all fairytale romance nights end, eventually they do stop kissing and they stop touching. There's no pants of ' _more_ ' and no moans of ' _oh god_ ' because the night is over as Zayn lays there against Harry's chest, allowing the other male's fingers to brush up and down his spine. There are no rushed _'I love you_ 's and they aren't grabbing for each other as though they are going to lose each other because Zayn is pretty sure Harry thinks he has him. Zayn can almost guarantee that the beautiful sleeping boy thinks Zayn is back and will be there in the morning for lazy kisses and a warm breakfast. That he will have to wake the raven-haired boy up by kissing the nobs of his spine or nuzzling his nose into Zayn's cheek, but he isn't because when morning comes..

 

Zayn is gone.

 

\----

 

The Bus is usually a comfort after a mission, something he can come back to that is familiar, but as Zayn lays on his bed, staring at the ceiling, he doesn't feel that soothing feeling anymore. He feels alone and cold without a bigger body beside him. There's no heavy, dead weight on his waist from the arm that should be there and there aren't any soft puffs of breath hitting his shoulder or the space behind his ear. It's strangely unpleasant to be in his own bed, surrounded by the few things he actually has claim over. Small little trinkets he has collected over his few years with Louis. Souvenirs, if you will. 

 

There's the journal he has had since before he left home, one that holds all his dearest memories and photos of things he can no longer remember himself. Photos of him and what looks like to be a sister, maybe a year or two older than him. He has a necklace from Louis after their first run, a miniature tiger because apparently his beautiful could be compared to the wild beast's, but it was a compliment nonetheless if you asked his mate. He's got his leather jacket that is usually plastered onto his lanky form at all times, giving him something to cling onto like a crutch when he feels threatened outside of a mission. It helps that it holds his fags and lighter for when he is most stressed. There's a couple books thrown around, some classic ones that he reads on his free time and some other ones to help broaden his vast education. Ones about foreign language and cultures, even some on other religions that are not his own. He can tell you every Greek and Roman God and how they came to be as well as what they stand for. He can recite Chinese proverbs and Buddhist sayings, but nothing compares to the things he has studied and learned recently about a curly-haired boy with bright green eyes.

 

Everything else in the room is work related. His guns and his holders, clothing of his, his phone, and some other things that Jemma and Fitz have him testing out to see how they work. The space is really small though, so it isn't like he has a lot of room to fill to begin with, and even if he did, he would have no idea what to fill it with. All he has is his life with Louis and then S.H.I.E.L.D.. Everything else is just a blur of shady memories of things he isn't sure are real or not. He can remember vague voices and shadowy figures, but he pushed most of his old life's memories away because the pain of being left behind is enough for him to deal with. 

 

So, instead he lays there in his too big of a bed and he brings his arms to cross under his head while his knees bend up as he stares at the ceiling as though it will fix everything. As if it can make Harry come back to him and allow the older lad to stay in that small and rather empty flat of the green-eyed boy's. He wishes he could have Harry right there with him, holding him to his chest while rubbing his back to keep him close and warm because there's a draft that comes in from the bathroom where the window is broken and it can get pretty cold. He wants for Harry's arms around his body and his breath against his skin and maybe, just maybe, if he pretends hard enough, he can feel just that around him, but then it is pulled away by an all too familiar voice. 

 

"Welcome back," Ward says as he leans against the doorway of Zayn's little cubby of a room. He looks well rested, yet not comfortable or content at all, just as Zayn imagines he, himself, looks. Just the right amount of 'perfectly out of place.' That's one of the few things he and the older male have in common; they belong neither here nor there. At least, that was what Zayn use to believe until Harry gave him a place to respond. Until that curly-haired boy with the cheesy pickup lines and lame jokes took him in under his wing and gave him somewhere he could belong. Harry gave him a home, a life, _love_. Harry gave him what he never thought he would have and then he left. He left and here he is now, completely miserable. 

 

"I wish I could say it was good to be back, but I'd rather not dance around that bush with you," Zayn replies and maybe it's cold (really cold) and a little dull because it's almost as though that not that Harry is gone, so is the raven-haired lad's happiness. Everything he had ever wanted had been within his grasp and he had lost it. Everything is gone as he lays here, wishing he never had to move. Wishing he isn't so alone anymore, but the truth of the matter is, he is. He is alone and he is to always be this way if he wants to stay with S.H.I.E.L.D..

 

"The new look, was that for him?" The other agent asks, making Zayn furrow his eyebrows before remembering the blonde streak he had added in a couple weeks ago to grab Harry's attention. He had kept up with it while he was with the boy, but it is grown out a little, maybe about a half inch or so, but he can't bring himself to care as he runs a hand through it and shakes it out a little. 

 

"Something like that," is what he ends up responding with, dropping his hand back down to rest on his chest because little things like that just don't seem to matter anymore. Not when his mind is filling with images of Harry decorating little pastries or pushing Zayn up against something because he just needed to _touch_. He needed to _feel_ that Zayn was there and the older boy never had noticed that he had needed for that, too. He didn't notice until now, while he is laying down on his bed, that he needed to feel Harry, too. Still does. He needs to feel him everywhere. 

 

"It looks good," the other lad says and Zayn doesn't care much for it. He doesn't feel the anger or annoyance he usually does when Ward is in the room and he doesn't the need to have to defend himself because now that he is back, he feels empty. Like nothing else matters because a huge part of him was missing now. No, not missing, given up, because that is what Zayn has done. He has given Harry up and for what? A risky life on the road? Saving people that will just end up turning on them to go with the Clairvoyant? Trying to help people that don't want to be helped? Is that worth leaving the only thing he has ever truly wanted? No, not even close, but he has already made his decision and he can't back out now. 

 

\----

 

Grant leaves some time later, leaving Zayn to cherish and also drown in the silence once more because that is all he has now and it's rather lonely. There's no warmth beside him or sweet giggle down the hall. He even misses the things that would randomly fly across the room and the bangs inside the walls from when Harry had nightmares and he had to wake the poor boy up. 

 

Things are different now, he knows this, but it doesn't make anything easier as he starts to walk down the hallway and towards the lab, doing everything in his power to show that he isn't falling apart inside. He's only going there because he knows she is there. Someone that will understand what he is going through, to some extent, and that's how he finds himself a moment later, standing in front of their tech board with Skye's iPad on the surface. Her finger scrolls and scrolls through whatever she is trying to hack her way into now, but he isn't interested in that. Not right now. He can't be when he is barely sure he is even getting oxygen into his lungs. 

 

"I didn't think I would see you for awhile," she says, making Zayn look around before turning his back to her so that he can lean the small of it against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. He's not really interested in speaking, he supposes, but he isn't up for being alone either. That leaves him with knowing that this would much easier. "Get bored inside your prison?" 

 

"Let's just say I'm use to having company," he murmurs in reply and whether Skye hears it or not, it doesn't make him feel any better saying it out loud. In fact, he thinks it makes him feel worse every time the words leave his lips because it keeps stabbing him in the heart; how he just left Harry without a word. How he never even said goodbye because in the end, he's a coward. He can fight any enemy, sneak into any space crawling with goons, and even run through a falling building if he has to, but anything that has to do with feelings and emotional attachment, he runs from. 

 

"Well, I'm not as interesting as _him_ , but you can come over here and help me hack into this firewall, if you'd like," she offers, so Zayn does. 

 

For the next hour, he watches the screen light up with codes and scroll down to try and find what it is they are looking for. His amber eyes focus entirely on the screen and for the briefest moment, he doesn't feel the pain in his chest that comes from remembering Harry kissing him or sliding their fingers together. His mind is so overworked with 'scan this here' and 'type this there' that he feels like that robot zombie he was before meeting the boy he is sure is the love of his life. Skye's voice trails in and out from time to time and Ward makes an appearance sometimes, but Zayn is thankful that the older man seems to keep to himself and not ruin the rare peace balance that is settled in his head right now.

 

"When do we—" He stops when hearing someone start to run down the hall, making him jump up and follow Ward out of the entryway until they are met with a rather frantic Simmons. She's beautiful with her tall frame, sweet eyes, and long hair and if he was even remotely into girls, he would go for her. She would be the first on his list because she is intelligent, creative, and she has a rebel streak just like him, but in the science department of things. She also has a caring side for even those who have a broken soul and he figures that is why they are so close. However, in the end, he isn't interest in her because he has Harry. 

 

Had. 

 

He _had_ Harry. 

 

"What's going on?" Ward asks, looking up over Skye's shoulder to see Coulson starting to walk towards them and his face? It looks nothing like reassurance and Zayn is ready for it. He's ready to fight whatever is coming for them and he is ready to face the music of what took him away from his lover back on the ground, but then Simmons is shaking her head and reaching for his forearm nervously. 

 

"I thought he was safe. I thought he was in the clear, but they hacked us. They placed a virus that led us in the complete opposite direction of him," she tries, but already Zayn's face is falling and he is panicking. Already his heart is starting to pound faster as he rushes back into his room to get his holders and guns, ignoring how Simmons tries to pull him back because her words don't mean shit. Nothing she can say will fix this or make him feel better. Nothing can be _said_ that will protect Harry. He wastes no time setting himself back up as he Coulson seems to follow him. He had trusted them to keep Harry safe. That was his assignment. That was his detail. He was suppose to keep Harry safe and now he is at risk of getting hurt and worse; captured. 

 

"Zayn, we're already on our way there, but you're not going down—"

 

"Excuse me?" The younger lad snips, turning around to face his leader with comically wide eyes because he's joking, surely. "Bullshit. There's no way you're going to go in there and not take me with you. Not after you forced me to leave. Not after I told Ward that it wasn't a good idea to take me off his detail. You should have left me there. I could have kept him safe," he continues, not allowing the tears to come because he isn't weak. He isn't vulnerable. No, right now, he is angry. He is so livid pissed that Coulson couldn't keep his word and that Harry is now in danger. He is upset because they had told him to come back and that his boyfriend wasn't in the heat of the fight anymore, but he is. He is probably trying to protect himself right now and instead freaking out because he _can't_ control himself. He doesn't know _how_ to. No one has taught him how to and now he is left alone without Zayn to protect him. 

 

"We were under the impression that he was safe. It was a mistake that we are going to fix now. We are going to get to him and bring him in—"

 

"You're not going to _touch_ him," Zayn warns, vaguely seeing out of the corner of his eye that they are making their way down towards land. He can see the top of buildings coming into view, but he refuses to pull his gaze away from Coulson. He refuses to show that he will in any way listen to this command because— "It's bullshit and you know it. He won't come to you. He wouldn't listen to you because he doesn't know you. He doesn't trust you, but he trusts _me_. He will come to _me_ ," he pushes, needing his leader to understand this because there is nothing anyone else can do to help Harry if Zayn isn't there and he thinks he wins because he isn't be told anything else as he walks out and heads for the bottom of the aircraft where Skye and Ward are already waiting. 

 

Already, the thoughts are running through his head. What if it was too late? What if _he_ was too late? What if Harry had already been grabbed and he came to find the shop empty? His heart was racing, rising faster and faster as the images of every possible scenario run through his thoughts. Images of finding his lover dead or worse, being tortured and hurt made him feel like he is suffocating. But then again, he has to think if Harry had even put up a fight. Had he stood up for himself? Or did his ability do that for him? So many questions he doesn’t have the answer to, but he knows he will be having them soon.

 

There is nothing being said at all as the door opens and Zayn is leading them out quietly towards the back of the coffeehouse and never before has it looked so big before. Never has it looked like such an obstacle until now as Skye and Ward take point by each side of the door and Zayn kicks it open after a few tries. Only because already he can hear yelling and screaming inside and he can hear a very familiar voice calling out to Harry that isn't him. That isn't someone safe and once he gets inside the coffeehouse.. 

 

It's _dark_. 

 

It's pitch black and he has no doubt that in his lover's panic, the lights were the first to go. They are the easiest to break, but as he starts to walk through the back room where Harry decorates his sweet treats, he notices how things are everywhere. The blender and mixers are flinging and spreading frosting and what smells like caramel ice blended substances everywhere. There's glass that Zayn can hear on the ground with every step they make through the room and he can see hints of knives scattered in the wall, the points driven right through the drywall in what looks like an attempt to hit whoever was coming after his boyfriend. 

 

"You don't need to be scared, Harry. We can help you. We have helped many like you," he hears, making him stop once he gets to a doorway and is pressing his back against it to try and look into the room. It's black in there, too, besides the very dim of light coming through the windows, but seeing as it's foggy and near the end of the day, it's hard to catch details. It's hard to see where Harry is and where the Clairvoyant is trying to get the curly-haired boy to go, so he simply waits and he watches. He watches as Grant slips passed and makes his way over to other entryway to peer from behind the wall as Skye glides in front of him to go over to crouch behind the counter. The counter where the baked goods rest in glass chambers, but those are shattered, too, and makes this building even more of a maze as they try to find the two males (probably more) in the room. 

 

"No.. No, you can't help me. No one can help me," Harry is heard saying, sounding closer to Zayn than the other voice had and that makes him sigh out in relief because if the boy is close, the raven-haired boy can slip passed, cover Harry, and shoot. He had go for the kill and get Harry low before anything can happen to him. Now, if only Zayn could see the green-eyed boy, his plan would be a bit more of use, but right now, it isn't. 

 

"We're trained to, Harry. We know what you can do and we can help. We've been looking for you for a long time. We wouldn't have wasted our time if we didn't have a way to help you," the Clairvoyant continues and instantly, Zayn's fingers are curling tighter around the butt of his gun as Skye glances over to him and then nods her head to what looks like the door. Behind it, he thinks he can see May, maybe even Coulson, but it's too hard to tell. It's too hard to focus on that when a picture frame is flying off the wall and he can hear Harry give out what sounds like a small whimper. 

 

"Stop. Stop _lying_. There's no way.. You're insane. You.. You broke into my shop. You shot some of my co-workers. My _friends_. You.. You took Zayn away," his boyfriend continues and his heart breaks a little more as the boy keeps going because Harry thinks Zayn was taken? He thinks that someone took him away? He can't tell if that makes him feel better or worse, but he does know the look Ward is giving him right now is to keep his cool and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. 

 

"We did that to protect you, Harry. These people.. They don't understand you like we can. Like we do. They don't know what incredible power you possess. They will be scared before they try to understand and they will hurt you, Harry. They will turn on you and hand you over to a government that will do experiments on you."

 

"Like you don't want to? Like you don't want to strap me down and try to figure out what makes me tick?" Harry continues as Zayn attempts to move further into the room without making a noise and although he is trained to be a silent killer, it's still proving to be rather difficult when the room is littered with debris that can't easily be seen. He manages anyway until soon he is hidden behind on of the stands that sell their premium coffee in at home amounts. It's just dark enough that he doesn't think he can be seen, which is ideal as his ambers eyes take in whatever weapons can be found on the Clairvoyant. 

 

"That is not our intention, nor will it ever be," the man states as Zayn spots a rifle on the ground, a pistol in the man's back holder, a knife in what looks like to be some inside pocket of his leather jacket, and some sort of device that is being held between his thumb and his index finger. He's worried to think what it could be to. His head whips back around to look at Ward, since Skye is now out of sight for him, and holds up three fingers for the weapons, signaling where they are, before giving another gesture to the unknown device in the man's hands. "As for your friend, him I don't have, but I can bring him to you if that is what it will take to get your trust." 

 

"What?" Harry asks, voice softer and easier and no, no, no, his lover is buying into this. He can sense the desperation and fear that is coming from the younger boy because of his little disappearing act and he can tell that is what is making Harry almost agree to this. Almost, because he doesn't seem to be sold on it quite yet. "You.. You said you don't have him, so.. So, how would you give him to me?" 

 

"Easy. I just have to drag him out," the Clairvoyant says and soon, there is a loud ringing throughout the room as the button of that mysterious device is pressed. It causes every person in that room to bring their hands to cover their ears except for the man holding it. It makes everyone nearly drop their weapons as Harry bends practically in half in attempt to get away from the sound. It's the cry of pain that the boy releases though that makes Zayn drop his hands grab for his gun once more to come out of hiding and hold it up to aim at the man's chest, directly into his heart. Within seconds, the sound is gone and the man is smirking.

 

"Stop it!"

 

"Hello, Zayn. Fancy meeting you once more. I was surprised when I met you the first time and seemed to get out alive. Both you and Ward seemed to be having a day," the man hums, looking Zayn up and down before glancing over to Harry, who is standing up once again. He is pulling his hands slowly away form his ears as his mouth seems to drop just a little in surprise. 

 

"Zayn—"

 

"Don't move, Harry," Zayn orders quickly, not wanting to take a chance that this guy might pull out one of those weapons and use them on his boy. He doesn't want to see his lover get hurt, all because he felt his need to _touch_ again. He needs Harry safe as they all stand in an awkward triangle's distance away from each other. All three of them.

 

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to let Harry go and then you're going to give yourself over to us because I don't see a single scenario where you get to walk out alive and do as you originally planned to do," he says, voice hard and firm because he isn't letting this man get close to Harry. 

 

"Interesting. Here I was thinking that there was nothing you truly cared about. That you were just some lost puppy that needed an owner to teach it new tricks and yet, here you are, fighting for something you want for the first time. How does that make you feel, Zayn? How does it feel to know that you are weak? That there is something that makes you vulnerable?" The Clairvoyant asks, stepping closer to him, but it just makes Zayn click his gun off the safety so that he is ready to aim, and if needed, shoot. 

 

"Not another step. You take one more and I will shoot you whether it is warranted or not," he threatens and he knows when Harry starts to get even more overwhelmed because the room starts to rattle. Chairs start to wiggle and the windows that aren't broken are spiderwebbing, meaning Harry is about to scream. He is about to fight himself and that makes him more nervous, but he schools his expression so it isn't seen. 

 

"Your parents would have been so proud of you, Zayn. You're entire team probably is because finally, you are _human_. Finally, you have found something that keeps you going—"

 

"Shut up!"

 

"—Something that makes that little box in your chest beat a little faster, a little louder. Something that is going to get you killed," the older male goes and that is when there is glass breaking from outside the building and the much-anticipated scream comes. That is when he hears his name being shouted across the room and somehow he is being pulled by nothing towards Harry and is caught with arms around his waist. He feels himself be held tightly as Harry turns them so the younger boy's back is facing the Clairvoyant and Zayn can see the man over Harry's shoulder. Had everything not been moving so fast, he would have been proud of Harry managing to make his powers work for himself for once. 

 

"I love you forever," Harry whispers into his ear and he doesn't even notice the tears forming in his amber eyes, moving to run down his cheeks, or the pain that is surging through his ribcage as he raises his gun from under Harry's arm to point it at the man pointing one right back at them. He barely even catches his lover's soft murmurs of apologies and he doesn't see the blood that is starting to seep through his own shirt and onto Harry's. 

 

"As I love you," is the last thing that is heard before yet another gunshot rings out into the room. 

 

\----

 

_We were infinite for a moment._

**Author's Note:**

> Come and visit me [here](http://sweaterpawnoctis.tumblr.com)!


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